


the laurens interlude

by mihaly



Series: (hhh)eoy [10]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Child Abuse, Established Relationship, Homophobia, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Racism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-02 00:45:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6543568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mihaly/pseuds/mihaly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander pays John a visit in South Carolina.</p><p>Lams College AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. day one

**Author's Note:**

> **IF YOU HAVE NOT READ (HAMILTON HAS HIS) EYES ON YOU, LEAVE THIS FIC NOW AND GO READ THAT.** This work picks up July 4th weekend the semester after the events of (hhh)eoy/(ragt)f. Events in this fic _will_ reference events in (hhh)eoy.
> 
> The long awaited Henry Laurens fic is here. Hallelujah!
> 
> Because of who Henry Laurens is as a person, there is childhood emotional neglect in this fic.
> 
> This fic got a lot dirtier than I expected, but I don't think anyone will really complain.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> References: [John's Childhood Home](http://www.movoto.com/mount-pleasant-na/1866-rifle-range-road-mount-pleasant-na-29464-812_15021787/), [John's Car](http://media.caranddriver.com/images/15q2/657948/2015-tesla-model-s-70d-instrumented-test-review-car-and-driver-photo-658384-s-original.jpg)

John’s fingers idly tapped on the steering wheel. He had been sitting in the commuter lot of the Charleston airport waiting for Alexander to text him. His flight had landed 20 minutes ago and his should have called by now.

“C’mon, Alexander,” John muttered to himself. “Where are you?”

Another 5 minutes passed and John’s car erupted in Britney Spears’ “Toxic”. He jumped, so consumed in his nervousness that the sudden blast from soothing NPR to Alexander’s ringtone was alarming.

“Hey baby girl,” he smiled. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Alexander responded brusquely. “And you might want to hurry up. I may have made a few enemies at baggage claim. While I stand by what I said, I don’t think airport security is going to just let me go if this gets physical.”

John laughed. His openly bisexual, verbally combative, New York liberal boyfriend was already shaking things up in South Carolina.

“I’ll be there in a second. Southwest, right?”

“Yes, John.”

John put the car in drive and pulled out of his parking spot. Thankfully, the commuter lot wasn’t too far from the terminal.

“Do you want to stay on the line while I drive to you?”

“My boyfriend, risking life and limb to stay on the line with me…”

John didn’t quite know what Alexander was talking about. He wasn’t like him and would recklessly text while driving. The car was equipped with hands-free Bluetooth, unlike Alexander’s car that was older than him.

“So what did you say to the people at the baggage claim?” John asked. It’d be better for Alexander to talk while John searched for him. While John was a great multi-tasker, it was certainly better if he focused all his efforts on finding his boyfriend and driving a car.

“Oh, they were staring at me with this open hostility for my pride flags on my backpack,” Alexander huffed. “So I said to the guy, who was wearing a horrendous pair of khaki cargo shorts, ‘What? You interested?’ And he did not appreciate _that_ …”

John had pulled into the terminal and now had the horrible task of picking Alexander out of the sea of people who just flew in from New York City. Part of the reason he wanted Alexander to talk about his experience was that he tended to get a little… animated when he was irritated.

Sure enough, he spotted Alexander with his backpack and duffel bag, phone to his ear, gesturing wildly. John pulled up to the curb.

“Alexander, turn around,” John instructed him. He did as he was told, but continued to scan the cars.

“Are you here? I don’t see you.”

John parked the car and got out of the driver’s seat to assist his lost boyfriend.

“Alexander!” he called over the din of the terminal. Alexander spun around. The way his whole face lit up upon seeing John was a moment he’d never forget. He quickly hung up the phone and rushed to John, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Welcome to Charleston, baby girl,” John murmured warmly. He politely kissed Alexander’s cheek as they drew back. Which Alexander took as a cue to lean forward to kiss John—

John quickly stepped back, letting Alexander go. That sort of public affection was fine at school, fine in New York, but given that someone nearly beat the shit out of Alexander in a baggage terminal for a pride flag, kissing was not going to go well. John could see the hurt and confusion in Alexander’s warm brown eyes.

“We should get going,” John said, grabbing Alexander’s duffel bag and tossing it in the backseat on his way back to the driver’s seat. “I bet you’re hungry. There’s a great barbeque place not far from here with the _best_ cornbread. We’ll pick some food up for my siblings and us for dinner. They’re going to love you.”

He climbed back into the car and Alexander followed suit. John pulled away from the curb. When they were finally out of the airport traffic, John glanced over at Alexander. He looked uncomfortable in the passenger seat.

“Alexander?”

Alexander looked over to him. Exhaustion and confusion were written all over his face.

“I didn’t know you drove a Tesla.”

_Oh no._

John wasn’t allowed to bring his car to school for the very reason it cost far too much money to just sit in an inaccessible student parking lot. He never brought up his car at school, especially since it brought his family’s wealth to the forefront. He completely forgot this whole trip was going to be a culture shock of sorts for Alexander.

“Yup,” John responded shortly. “It was a birthday present.”

Alexander’s fingers skated over the interior of the vehicle, taking inventory on the dials and screens. John caught Alexander’s hand in his own and tangled their fingers together. He could feel some of the tension melt in his hand, as if he felt Alexander exhale for the first time since getting in the vehicle.

“I’m so excited for this weekend, baby girl,” John grinned. “There’s this wonderful Fourth of July faire that I think you’re really going to love. It’s super Southern and has rides and games and the _best_ food. And then we’re hosting our neighborhood’s Fourth of July barbeque with a big spit and a pie contest—”

“For someone who eats so healthy, I’m surprised you’re trying to sell me on barbeque and faire food,” Alexander chuckled. John laughed.

“We all have our cheat days and the Fourth of July is _worth it_.”

It was a relatively short drive from the airport to John’s house. They stopped at the barbeque place John mentioned and picked up food to-go. It was really difficult to stand in the waiting area without touching Alexander, but John knew better. The further they got from the center of the city, the more intolerant people were. Alexander couldn’t stop himself from placing a hand low on John’s back while they waited. John kept trying to turn out of Alexander’s touch, but the combination of Alexander’s persistence and John’s longing for his love made it extremely difficult. John could feel the stares of the other patrons and was relieved when their food was ready.

Alexander nervously held onto the food in the car. It was as if he was scared of making the car messy. He knew John didn’t care about messes – he lived with Alexander Hamilton for god’s sake. He didn’t hold John’s hand again the rest of the car ride.

The streets outside John’s neighborhood were quaint. Big family homes lined the block with enormous old trees standing watch majestically over the road. John occasionally glanced over at Alexander who was watching the houses go by with such amazement. John guessed he was waiting in anticipation for when John was going to pull into a driveway.

_Not yet, baby girl. Not yet._

John finally turned onto a street where a small security booth and large iron gates blocked their path. Alexander’s eyes grew impossibly bigger as John rolled down the window.

“Hi Paula!” John said cheerily. Paula, the security guard, stepped out of the small hut and up to John’s open car window. She was an older white woman with gracefully greying blonde hair. Her blue eyes twinkled as she gazed upon John and Alexander.

“Good evening, Mr. Laurens!” Paula replied. “Is this a friend coming to visit you?”

John’s heart pounded in his chest. Paula didn’t know. He knew she was a kind woman with a couple kids who were his age, and she had seen him grow up with his siblings. Was it worth coming out to her since this might be the only time she’d ever meet Alexander?

He glanced at Alexander who was still dutifully clutching the Styrofoam boxes of food. He didn’t know the level to which John was still in the closet. With his brave boyfriend by his side, what harm could come to John?

“Oh, Paula, this is my boyfriend, Alexander,” John introduced. Alexander gave a curt wave. “He’s visiting from New York. Had to get him Melvin’s, of course.”

But it didn’t matter how much John tried for small talk. He saw the way Paula’s bright blue eyes dimmed at the word _boyfriend_.

“Well, have a great visit, Alexander. Enjoy South Carolina,” Paula said stiffly. She sharply turned and went back to the guardhouse to open the gate. John rolled up the window.

“Yeah, this trip is going to be great,” Alexander sighed. He bravely reached over and placed a comforting hand on John’s knee. He knew it wasn’t John’s fault she reacted like that. He told her the truth about their relationship instead of hiding and that was the best John could do.

John’s neighborhood – Raven’s Run – was different from the neighborhood they drove through. It was lined with _enormous_ houses and monstrous willow trees. Alexander’s eyes were as wide as saucers as they slowly drove past each house. John could almost feel Alexander’s heartbeat through his palm on his knee.

Then they pulled up to a secluded drive lined with bushes and trees. John turned in and said, “Welcome to my home, baby girl.”

His childhood home was a behemoth. It looked like an old plantation house, despite having only been built in 2000. Towering columns greeted them, the amber glow of the porch lights illuminating the front of the house. It was intimidating.

John _hated_ this house.

He drove around the fountain in the middle of the rounded drive and pulled up to the front of the house. Once parked, John hurried around to the other side of the car to let Alexander out. After the weird situation at the gate, John wanted to be sure Alexander felt welcomed by him.

“Thank you, John,” Alexander said warmly. John could see the relief on his face to get out of the expensive car. He was still carrying the food, so John grabbed his two bags and led Alexander into the house.

Inside, the house was even more impressive. Vaulted ceilings, crown molding, finished oak floors. Upon walking in, they were greeted by a stairway going up to the bedrooms, the foyer flanked by a living room and dining room on either side. Straight ahead was the family room with the kitchen around the corner. With five bedrooms and another media room upstairs, it certainly was overwhelming.

John watched Alexander with baited breath. Alexander kept looking around, taking in his new surroundings. John had never seen him so quiet, so uneasy. Here his intelligent, witty boyfriend was standing in his childhood home’s foyer, holding take-out boxes, without a word to say.

That’s not to say John wasn’t nervous as well. His _boyfriend_ was standing in his _childhood home_. There was no doubt in his mind that this wasn’t going to be smooth sailing, but they were going to make the most of it. Three months was too long a time to go without seeing Alexander Hamilton. They had discussed John possibly visiting Alexander instead, but apparently his last foster family was renovating their house and didn’t want others to see it.

So John’s it was.

“What do you think?” John asked quietly. He stood close to Alexander, their bodies just barely brushing. He placed a hand low on Alexander’s back, rubbing with a soothing motion.

“It’s _huge_ ,” Alexander choked out. John chuckled.

“Not the first time you’ve said that to me,” he whispered into Alexander’s ear before kissing the corner of his jaw. Alexander let out a barking laugh that echoed through the house.

There was shuffling from upstairs where suddenly Martha and Junior rushed out of the media room and leaned over the railing, peeking to see Alexander and John standing in the foyer. Moments later, Jemmy came barreling out, sliding across the wood, followed by Mary Eleanor, running as fast as her 4-year-old legs could carry her. Thanks to strong genetics from his mother, all of the Laurens kids looked alike – sweet hazel eyes, lots of freckles, thick curly hair. Only Mary Eleanor looked more like their dad; her hair was jet black.

“Hey Jack!” Jemmy yelled from the top of the stairs. The rest of the kids whispered to each other as they bounded down the stairs toward them.

“Hey, y’all!” John replied. He immediately regretted slipping into his Southern accent. He worked so hard to get rid of it, but every time he came home it only got worse. Being in the thick of summer, it was on full blast. “We got dinner.”

“Is that Melvin’s?” Martha asked as she came closer. She was a gangly girl, all limbs, only 16 years old. John loved her to pieces. She was wicked smart and could probably go toe-to-toe with Alexander in his debating skills. She took the take-out containers from Alexander without a second thought as to who he was.

“It is,” John answered. “But I wanted to introduce y’all to my boyfriend, Alexander.” Alexander waved with a smile. “Alexander, this is Martha, Jemmy, Junior, and Mary Eleanor.” He pointed to each of his siblings in turn. Alexander was only here for a couple days and John didn’t expect him to remember each of their names.

They each waved hello politely, even Mary Eleanor who had plastered herself to Martha’s leg.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Alexander said kindly.

“Let’s get to the kitchen and eat some of this, yeah?” John said. His siblings took off at a quick trot to the kitchen, bouncing with excitement for their favorite barbeque. John and Alexander lingered in the foyer.

“Are you okay?” John asked softly, drawing Alexander into his arms.

“I’m doing fine,” Alexander replied. “Just… a little overwhelmed.”

“I know, I know. It’s a big house, too much money, four siblings…”

“And the _car_ , John.” John blushed.

“It was either that or my sister’s Porsche she’s not allowed to drive yet. If I had put mileage on that car, my father would’ve killed her.”

Alexander exhaled forcefully, as if he was still getting his bearings.

“You’ll be fine. I’m here. My siblings are great. My father won’t be home until tomorrow night, so you dodged a bullet on that one,” John assured him. He leaned in and kissed Alexander so delicately on the lips. It was dizzying, kissing his _boyfriend_ in the foyer of his childhood home. He had taken so many photos for debutante balls over the year in this very foyer with girls he had no interest in. Now, he was with Alexander, the man he loved, under the same archway. He couldn’t have been happier.

“Jack! Alexander! Are you coming?” Junior yelled as he appeared in the hallway to the family room. He got an eyeful of Alexander and John, kissing tenderly at the door. “Jack!”

John pulled back to look at his brother, when he realized what happened. John’s spine stiffened. His father had given him very explicit instructions before Alexander came over to not show affection in front of his siblings as to “not give them any ideas.”

_Well, fuck him. He’s not here._

John gave Alexander one last hard peck on the lips as if to punctuate the _fuck you_ to his father.

“We’ll talk later, okay? I know you’re thinking about something because you’re unusually quiet. Deep breath,” John said, guiding himself and Alexander exactly that. “I love you, my siblings will love you.”

_My father hates you._

“I love you, too,” Alexander replied. One more deep breath and he clapped his hands together, his eyes suddenly excited and focused.

_There he is_.

“Alright, I’m ready to eat, Junior,” Alexander said, walking toward John’s brother. John smiled. His boyfriend was going to charm the pants off his siblings.

He grabbed Alexander’s bags and followed, discovering his siblings plus Alexander hovering over the take-out boxes like vultures. John gently tucked Alexander’s bags in the corner and looked at his siblings curiously.

“Y’all know where the plates are!” John encouraged, clapping his hands together. He tickled Jemmy, who was just standing still. “Apúrate!”

Alexander smiled at John as they watched his brothers and sisters grab plates and forks from the cabinets and drawers. A fleeting thought flickered through his head, imagining his siblings were _their_ children. Having made all this money doing social justice work and political journalism, John and Alexander Laurens-Hamilton lived in an impressive Colonial-style home in upstate New York with their four children—

It was a lovely dream.

John watched Alexander’s hand gently stroke the marble countertops. He supposed this might be the first time Alexander had been in a house like this. His life was spent in cramped New York City where houses like this didn’t exist. But from what John gathered from their conversations, Alexander had never even been to an apartment or townhouse like this. Alexander probably had only seen this life on TV.

He stepped right behind Alexander and wrapped his arms around his waist, hooking his chin over his shoulder.

“What are you thinking?” he murmured against Alexander’s neck, his lips brushing against his skin.

“I want this life,” Alexander answered, his voice distant. He must have been imagining the same thing John was.

“Kids, too?”

“Three. With you.”

John hugged Alexander tighter. That sounded perfect.

His siblings had brought the plates and food to the kitchen table, setting the places haphazardly. They all started digging into the food before John and Alexander even sat down. John pulled the seat out for Alexander to sit next to him.

“Ay! Vamos a rezar!” he chided them. The kids put down their silverware and Jemmy wiped his sauce-covered fingers on his pants. Alexander glanced at him curiously. John never said prayer or grace at school, but he knew if he skipped it while his father was gone, he’d never hear the end of it. He took Junior’s hand in his and laced his fingers with Alexander’s.

“Lord, thank you for this wonderful food, our beautiful family, and our beloved guests. Amen,” John said reverently. He squeezed the hands he was holding and let Junior’s go, keeping Alexander’s in his as long as possible. Alexander seemed to like that, the added comfort. It wasn’t going to last for very long.

As soon as John put food in his mouth, his 9-year-old brother Jemmy perked up with a question, “So Alexander is your boyfriend?”

John hurriedly swallowed his food. He knew questions were going to come up and he wasn’t quite sure what his father had told them. Most of the days, John was out of the house, actively avoiding Henry Laurens. Yes, his internship did keep him late a lot of days, but he’d stay out later at the local gay dance club or volunteering for a homeless shelter downtown. His siblings were all asleep by the time he got home and, if he was very lucky, so would his father. But that meant he wasn’t around to answer their questions – or give them the truth.

“He is, Jemmy,” John answered diplomatically.

“Like a girlfriend?” Mary Eleanor added.

“Yup.”

“But you’re both boys. Boys can’t date each other,” Jemmy remarked. Martha shot him a dirty look.

“Yes they can, Jem,” she argued before turning to John and Alexander. “There are two boys in my grade who are dating.”

“Well, Jemmy, we are dating,” Alexander chimed in. He squeezed John’s hand. “Two boys can date each other. Two girls can date each other. It’s totally normal for two boys to fall in love.” He smiled sweetly at John who couldn’t help but blush in response.

“Are you in loooooove?” Jemmy cooed. He was rambunctious and curious for a 9-year-old and loved to ask borderline-inappropriate questions.

“Yup,” Alexander responded resolutely. “I’m very in love with your brother.”

John blushed harder. It was one thing for Alexander to tell him he loved him, but it was on a whole other level to hear him tell his little siblings he did.

_Let’s see if he can repeat it in front of my father…_

The rest of dinner was spent with Jemmy, Junior (who was 12), and Mary Eleanor asking Alexander a lifetime’s worth of questions, some of which John didn’t even know the answer. They asked everything from his favorite color (green) and his favorite vegetable (cauliflower) to what he wanted to be when he grew up (not quite sure yet) and how much Spanish he knew (he was fluent).

It was cute watching Alexander volley all the questions thrown at him. His eyes widened and he spoke very animatedly to Mary Eleanor at his right who was simply enamored by this stranger. They had only been together for 6 months at this point, but oh boy, John was ready to settle down and have kids with Alexander after watching him cut up Mary Eleanor’s food for her.

Everything was going great until Mary Eleanor asked, “Alexander, is your mom dead too?”

John could have heard a pin drop.

In all their time spent together, John never talked about his mother. She died shortly after having Mary Eleanor. It was a very risky pregnancy, and she never quite recovered. Thankfully, John was home for Christmas break and was able to see her one last time before she passed suddenly. His father then had to raise four kids on his own.

It was painful enough to deal with his living father. It was heartbreaking to talk about his dead mother.

“Don’t ask people that, Mary Eleanor,” John said, perhaps a little too harshly. Mary Eleanor was a tough kid, but she flinched at his words. She _flinched_.

It seemed she was getting a healthy dose of Henry Laurens’ parenting at 4 years old.

“Jemmy, why don’t you and Junior start on the dishes,” Martha interrupted. She scooped up her little sister in her arms. “I’ll take Mary Eleanor upstairs to clean up. Why don’t you show Alexander the house?” She had the slow and careful cadence their mom had used when their father lashed out at them. Her face said so much more before she left the kitchen.

He sounded just like his father.

As Jemmy and Junior collected the plates, they avoided eye contact with John. He knew why. He did the same thing when Henry Laurens was angry. Put your head down, do what you’re told, don’t upset the basket.

His heart was pounding in his chest. He wanted to scream. John was a thousand times better than his father. They were just talking about having children and here John was, proving to Alexander that he was unfit to be a father. He was only 19, sure, but the damage was already done.

Alexander stood up from the table and gently drew John out of his seat. His hands were steady as he held John close. John felt like a Chihuahua in winter with how much he was shaking.

“It’s okay, John,” Alexander calmed him. “Can you show me around? I really want to see your bedroom.” He kissed John on the cheek, his lips soft and warm. John didn’t much feel like being held or loved in that moment. He was the reflection of his father. He tried to pull away from Alexander, but Alexander clung tighter. “If you think I love you less, you’re wrong, John Laurens.”

One look in Alexander’s eyes and John settled. He breathed deeply through his nose and he could faintly smell Alexander’s coconut body wash. The sweet scent woke his numb senses. Alexander was here. He wasn’t leaving.

“Okay, let’s show you the house,” John said, giving Alexander a shaky smile. He took Alexander’s hand and led him away from the table.

They traveled through the kitchen and into the dining room, into the foyer, to the living room… In each room, John stopped and gave Alexander a small anecdote on his childhood. How his family celebrated Thanksgiving in the dining room. The family portrait day for the large photo in the living room. The small scar on his forehead he got when he smacked his head on the stair bannister.

Alexander listened attentively. He stood behind John, his arms wrapped around John’s waist, occasionally planting light kisses on John’s neck. He asked a litter of questions in each room as if this was his only chance to get the full John Laurens Experience. They had only been together a short time; Alexander had _years_ to learn everything about John. It was very endearing.

With Alexander’s bags in hand, John led them upstairs. He dropped Alexander’s bags right outside his door, not opening it, because he knew Alexander. The telltale feeling of Alexander’s eyes on him and where his hands were resting low on John’s waist, almost trying to sneak into John’s front pockets of his jeans.

There was a shout from the media room – Junior – followed by a thud and an onslaught of giggles. Alexander jumped.

“What was that?” he asked shortly. He had apparently forgotten there were other people in the house.

“They’re just playing,” John smiled. He wasn’t worried. Martha was in there with the little ones. She was fair and just with them. And if he wasn’t around to get them to bed, she was more than up to the task.

John led Alexander to see the boys’ room, then the girls’ room. The two rooms couldn’t be more different. The girls’ room was impeccably clean. With a 16 year old and a 4 year old, it had to be. But the boys’ looked like a toy box exploded. Jemmy and Junior were only a couple years apart and were the best of friends.

“Do you want to see the media room?” John asked, leading Alexander away from the girls’ room. “I think the kids are playing on the XBOX…”

“What’s behind here?” Alexander queried, pointing to a set of large oak double doors.

“My father’s room,” John replied. Alexander went for the door handle. It was locked. “Maybe you’ll see it when he gets back. It’s got a huge master bath and a sitting room he uses as an office. The blueprints for the house call it the ‘Master’s Retreat’.” It always made John sick to his stomach that a plantation-style house had a room called the ‘Master’s Retreat’.

“Hate that name,” Alexander murmured as he tried to peek through the crack between the doors. “Your father loves it, right?”

John chuckled. Of course Alexander picked up on the uncomfortable nature of the home. He kissed Alexander right there in the hallway, in front of his father’s door. He felt the rebellion in the tips of his fingers as they stroked Alexander’s cheeks.

“I love you,” he murmured. Alexander smiled back.

“I love you too,” Alexander echoed before slapping John firmly on the ass. John could feel Alexander’s half-hard cock pressed against his thigh. “Can I see your room now?”

“Is there an ulterior motive here, Alexander?” John joked, smiling brightly.

“No ulterior motive,” Alexander said, his eyes glancing down to John’s lips. “I just want to fuck you in private.” John hummed.

“Only after the kids are asleep,” John reminded him. “I don’t want them hearing what comes out of your mouth when your dick’s being sucked.” Alexander’s eyes went wide with excitement.

“ _My_ mouth? Did you forget that someone else’s dirty talk is getting better?”

The distance was definitely making John’s dirty talk a lot more graphic. He had to learn quickly or be left in the dust. Alexander had made him come so quickly several times while he lay there waiting for John to figure it out.

“You’re also missing how hard I’m blushing while I say those things to you.”

That was also true.

Alexander pressed his cock against John’s thigh again.

“You’re missing how hard I am right now,” Alexander said slyly. John rolled his eyes. His boyfriend was ridiculous.

“C’mon.” He took Alexander’s hand in his and led him to his bedroom.

John’s bedroom was a testament to his childhood. Shelves and shelves of various sports and academic awards covered his deep purple walls. There were a couple framed posters from his favorite movies – _Fight Club, Amores Perros, Amélie_ – plus his high school diploma, already hung with care next to a small photo of his family. He had a large white chair in the corner near his bookcase and desk. Next to his bookcase was a door to a small ensuite bathroom. Taking up the most space was his queen-size bed covered with a thin lilac comforter.

Alexander wandered in and dropped his bags in the middle of the room. John felt odd standing the middle, so he lingered near his bed, his legs brushing against the sheets.

“This room is _huge_ ,” Alexander mused aloud. John rolled his eyes. He had not only made that comment stepping into the house, but in several other rooms as well. Like, John _knew_ his childhood home was obnoxiously big.

Then John saw Alexander’s eyes zero in on him. He quietly stalked over to John and with his fingertips, guided John to sit down on the bed. Alexander kneeled between his legs, his fingers grabbing at John’s belt. John stopped him, swatting his hands away.

“What are you doing? I said we had to wait,” John reprimanded him.

“I remember you worried about _my_ mouth saying things. Can’t say anything if it’s full of cock,” Alexander smirked.

Oh, that motherfucker. He needed to be more specific with Alexander. Especially when he can say things like that that make John go hard almost instantly.

John sighed in resignation. He leaned back on his hands, giving Alexander all the space he needed to work.

“You and your semantics,” John murmured before gasping as Alexander cupped him through his jeans. It had been almost two months since Alexander’s hands were last on him. John never wanted to go that long again.

Quickly, Alexander unbuckled John’s jeans and tugged them down to his knees and off his legs. John’s cock was pressing uncomfortably in his underwear, the long hard line blatantly visible beneath the blue cotton.

“This cock is _huge_ ,” Alexander said in the same inflection he used for every room of the house. John couldn’t help but laugh.

“Were you saving that joke for just now?” John asked.

“Oh, definitely,” Alexander admitted before pressing his nose and mouth against John’s covered balls and breathing deep. “Fuck, you smell so good.”

Alexander peeled away John’s waistband and yanked his underwear down to join his jeans. His eyes softened with fondness upon seeing John’s bare cock. He touched it with such delicate reverence that it made John chuckle.

“Do you two need some time alone?” he asked jokingly.

“Sometimes, when I’m alone, I’m afraid I made you up,” Alexander said lowly. “Everything about you, from your eyes, to your intelligence, to your heart, to your cock. You are _just so perfect_ for me, John. You could only exist in a dream.”

Alexander was nearly draped across his lap, his arms over John’s thighs, his hands on John’s hips. John ran a hand through Alexander’s hair. It was a little greasy from his long day of traveling, but John wouldn’t have him any other way. He was _here_.

“I’m real, baby girl,” John assured him. “I feel the same way about you if it’s any consolation.”

Alexander hummed in agreement before licking John’s cock from root to tip. John whimpered as Alexander took the head into his mouth and rolled his tongue into the slit. He took more of John into his mouth, sucking obscenely, the wetness of his mouth messily covering his cock. Alexander moaned deep in his chest as if he was having the most decadent meal of his life. John tugged at Alexander’s hair because the vibrations were always just on the right side of _too much_.

“That’s it, baby girl,” John murmured. “Suck that gorgeous cock. I heard for weeks how much you missed it. I missed your mouth. The way your lips look so beautiful stretched around me. _Yeah_ , just like that, baby girl…”

John drifted his hand from Alexander’s hair to stroke at his taut lower lip. It was soft and smooth and _wet_. Alexander whined, his fingers clutching at John’s ass. The nails pinched at John’s skin but it only lit something inside him. He thrust gently into Alexander’s mouth. It was instinctual and he was about to apologize until Alexander’s dark eyes met his.

A challenge.

He watched Alexander take a deep breath and close his eyes. His jaw dropped open just a little further, the suction on his cock lessening. With a small roll of his hips, John worked his cock in and out of Alexander’s mouth, testing his boyfriend’s resolve. They had done some pretty kinky shit when it came to blowjobs, including five separate sessions where Alexander warmed John’s cock in his mouth for at least an hour. Alexander would use any opportunity to suck John off to the point where their friends expected them to disappear at some point during dinner.

John never complained. He was, of course, one half of the equation. He loved seeing his smart, witty, fearless boyfriend on his knees with his mouth stuffed full of his cock. He felt powerful, like he could take over the world. Alexander Hamilton was on his knees _for him_.

His thrusts grew faster and longer, the head of his cock bumping against Alexander’s throat. He wasn’t going to hold on for much longer.

“Yeah, take it, take it, take it—“ John babbled. Alexander’s hands scrabbled at his hips, trying to find purchase to grab. But then John felt Alexander’s true motive. He pressed his middle finger against John’s hole, dryly working the tip inside. John cried out quietly. He was now caught between fucking his cock into Alexander’s mouth and his ass back onto his finger. His head was swimming in the clouds.

John grabbed at Alexander’s hair, anchoring him, as the sharp feeling in the base of his spine grew and grew. He snapped his hips forward three more times and came hard down Alexander’s throat.

Alexander moaned before swallowing rapidly, drinking John in. He pulled off with a soft ‘pop’ and John didn’t give him a moment to say something witty. He pulled at Alexander, urging him to his feet. John unbuttoned his shorts and pushed them down to the floor with his underwear, letting Alexander’s cock bob free.

John quickly turned around on the bed, positioning himself on his elbows and knees, his ass in the air. Like a magnet, Alexander’s hands greedily grabbed his hips and thrust his cock between John’s cheeks.

“I don’t have a condom, John,” Alexander breathed.

“Don’t need one,” John answered. “Fuck me just like this. Come on me, Alexander.”

And Alexander did as he was told, finishing himself off with a couple jerky thrusts against John’s ass. John could feel his release on his skin and it made him feel _filthy_.

He just had gay sex in his childhood bedroom. There was another item off his bucket list.

Alexander’s grip on his hips slackened and as John slid down onto the bed, he felt Alexander land next to him. Without hesitation, Alexander kissed him deeply, the kind of kiss John had wished for at the airport.

When they broke apart, John smiled at Alexander dazedly.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

They both giggled shyly.

“So much for not having sex while the kids are around,” John laughed.

“Just call it practice for when we have kids of our own in a tiny three-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn,” Alexander smiled.

_That also sounds perfect._

John draped himself over Alexander who gently stroked his back and peppered his face in sweet kisses. John hummed in contentment. He felt ridiculous lying in bed, his legs dangling off the side, both of them naked from the waist down, but he didn’t want to move.

Alexander was here in South Carolina with him. His lush oasis in a desert of affection.

“I missed you,” John murmured. The words came straight from his heart.

“I missed you, too.” Alexander kissed him tenderly on the lips.

“I missed that.”

“Fucking my mouth?”

John snorted with laughter.

“Well, _yes_ , but I meant I missed your kisses.” Alexander kissed him again.

“Prepare yourself because I plan to give you enough to tide you over til you see me again,” he smiled brightly.

They settled back on the bed, trading soft kisses in the stillness of John’s bedroom. He could feel Alexander’s come cooling to his skin, but he didn’t care. He felt branded. He felt owned. He was lying in his childhood bed after having his dick sucked and another man coming on him. It was _incredible_. He felt so sated and comfortable and safe for the first time since leaving school.

Alexander shifted underneath him, jolting John awake.

“Did you have a nice nap, papa?” Alexander cooed. He pet John’s curls, tucking an errant strand behind his ear.

“How long was I out?” John asked blearily. He regretfully sat up, moving off his warm boyfriend to find his phone.

“Not too long,” Alexander replied.

10:23pm.

He let John nap on him for nearly half an hour.

_Not too long, my ass._

“I gotta get the kids to bed,” John groaned, stretching up toward the ceiling. He shuffled over to his bathroom to grab a washcloth and clean himself off. The cool cloth felt good on his overheated skin. Alexander’s hands sliding up his stomach as he crowded John against the vanity felt even better. His soft cock pressed into the cleft of John’s ass and John imagined Alexander bending him over, licking him open, then fucking him thoroughly as he’s helpless to do anything but hold on.

He had responsibilities greater than fucking his boyfriend silly.

“Baby girl, I gotta go,” he whined half-heartedly as he turned in Alexander’s arms. Their cocks brushed against each other, sending more desire through John’s veins. He desperately wished he could drag Alexander back into bed and go for round two. Nothing compared to having Alexander inside him.

But John was _tired_.

“I just can’t stop touching you,” Alexander admitted.

“I gathered that,” John chuckled. “But how about you get ready for bed and I’ll join you when I’m done, alright?”

“Perfect.” Alexander kissed him one more time before freeing him to tug on a pair of basketball shorts.

John slipped out of the room and into the hallway. The house was exceptionally quiet. Too quiet. He walked silently over to the boys’ room where he heard faint whispers. Upon opening the door, he saw Martha, sitting on the edge of Jemmy’s bed, kissing his forehead and shutting off the light. She quickly exited the room to join John in the hallway.

“Are they all asleep?” John asked softly.

“Put Mary Eleanor down about an hour ago. Jemmy and Junior just now,” she explained. “I figured I’d give you some time with Alexander before dad gets home.”

John’s heart melted.

“Thank you, Martha,” he said, deeply touched.

“I know you would do the same with any girls I brought home,” she shrugged casually despite her words rocking John’s foundation.

“Martha—?” She blushed and smiled bashfully.

“Can we talk about it later? You have a boyfriend who’s visiting,” she said before punching John playfully in the arm and shuffling away to her room.

When John got back to his room, Alexander was tucked in bed with his laptop glowing brightly. Of course his boyfriend had to get some writing in before bed. John had given Alexander a laptop as a finals and going-away present. It certainly made Skype sex a lot easier.

John tugged off his clothes and climbed in to snuggle against his equally naked boyfriend. From the looks of it, Alexander was just finishing some Twitter feuds he had started on the plane.

“So I think Martha’s a lesbian,” John said plainly.

“Oh, good for her!” Alexander smiled. “They say queerness runs in families.”

If that were true, Henry Laurens was in for a real disaster, especially given how Jemmy talked about the other boys in class.

“How are you feeling?” John asked openly. He knew earlier that Alexander was uncomfortable, but perhaps after sex he was feeling better.

Alexander shut his laptop and tucked it onto the floor. He rolled over and cuddled against John, tangling their legs together.

“Magnificent, since I got to put your dick in my mouth,” he said smugly. John grinned.

“That was pretty great,” John agreed. “You looked so good. You always do.”

A faint blush crossed Alexander’s cheeks.

“You’re pretty inspiring, John Laurens,” he smiled. Alexander trailed a couple fingers along John’s soft cock. John shivered.

“I’m glad you’re not still feeling weird after Paula and dinner.”

Alexander sighed heavily.

_Never mind._

“I don’t think I was quite prepared for the insidious nature of the homophobia here,” Alexander admitted. “And I knew your mother died, but I wasn’t prepared for the candor with which Mary Eleanor treated it.”

“She’s 4—“

“Yeah, but—“

“And that’s all she’s known. She doesn’t know any better.” John would defend his siblings to the death, even against Alexander. “Anything else?”

“That I knew you were rich, but I wasn’t prepared for _just_ how rich.”

_There it is._

“I don’t think anything could have prepared you for _just_ how rich,” John sighed.

“It’s definitely a culture shock,” Alexander stated. “You have a _fridge_ with _Wifi_.”

Knowing Alexander came from basically nothing embarrassed John. Not for who Alexander was, but for who _he himself_ was. He was so used to a lap of luxury that having someone like Alexander around to ground him to reality was truly a gift. John so often took the money thrown at him for granted. While he complained about wage inequality, he was living in the byproduct of that wealth. In his own mind, he divorced himself from his childhood and his father’s income, but in times like these, it appeared he still had a long way to go.

“Our fridge won’t have Wifi,” John smiled as he tugged Alexander closer.

“Oh, you are incorrect, John Laurens,” Alexander joked. “Our fridge will _absolutely_ have Wifi. We’ll have to sell your Tesla to pay for it and our three wonderful children to go to a top-tier Montessori in Manhattan, but that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to pay.”

John giggled. The dream they were building together was beautiful.

Alexander yawned.

“Go to sleep, Alexander. We can talk more tomorrow,” John said sweetly. He stroked Alexander’s face, then kissed him one more time.

“I love you, John,” Alexander murmured sleepily from John’s shoulder.

“I love you too, baby girl.”

And with that, Alexander fell asleep. It was his vacation. He wasn’t working or interning or writing or studying. He had three nights with John and was able to fall asleep with ease in John's arms.

John breathed deep, smelling Alexander’s body wash one more time, the sweet coconut infiltrating his senses.

He was finally home.


	2. the faire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Alexander attend the county faire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! Here's chapter two! Warning for offensive language and derogatory slurs.

Even over summer break, John was an early riser. His routine varied in every stage of his life, but this summer, he had fallen into a predictable routine. At 5am, John would wake up, go for a light 5-mile run, shower, take post-shower nude photos and text them to Alexander, get dressed, make breakfast for the kids, make their lunches, drop Mary Eleanor off at daycare, then wind up at his law firm internship by 9am.

So at 5am on the nose, John Laurens woke up. He opened his eyes and blearily glanced around the room. It was so early and he was so _tired_ from the night before.

_Alexander._

He rolled over to find his Sleeping Beauty boyfriend, his inky black hair pulled up in a bun on top of his head. Even with the air conditioning on full blast, the oppressive South Carolina humidity crept in. Alexander was completely naked, sprawled out on top of the blankets. He was so still, so silent.

John had an idea.

Carefully, John leaned over and kissed Alexander on his soft lips. There was no waking him. When Alexander slept, he _slept._

Instead of a typical wake-up call (which were more Alexander’s specialty than John’s), John crawled out from the bed and wandered to his bookcase. It was still dark, the sun only glowing over the horizon. He tugged a sketchbook off his bookcase and hunkered down in his desk chair, the leather sticking to his naked body.

After clicking on his lamp, he plucked a pencil from a cup on his desk and held it between his teeth as he flipped through the book to find a blank page. There were pages of turtles, his siblings, inanimate objects in his room. He finally found a clean page and looked up.

Alexander was just so _gorgeous_. The way he slept, taking up so much space on the bed. John often found it difficult to sleep next to him. He always found a way to simultaneously occupy most of the bed while being a clingy octopus to John. But here, without John in the bed, he was simply himself.

The faint glow of the lamp made Alexander’s skin radiate with golden hues. His chest was a great span of unmarred flesh, tapering down to his tummy and soft cock so sweetly resting against his thigh. John wished he could pull out his watercolors and really capture Alexander’s beauty.

_Maybe later._

He sketched and sketched, vigilant to capture Alexander in a moment of stillness. He was sure to include how his facial hair made his skin look softer, the small crease in his belly from when he’d slouch, the dark circles under his eyes from sleepless nights writing. He had hundreds of photos of Alexander – both clothed and not – but none forced him to take in every hair and every blemish and every perfection of Alexander quite like drawing him.

The sun peeked out over the horizon. Light streamed in from the window, spilling across the sheets. John kept sketching. When he was done with the entire piece, he began on smaller portraits of pieces of Alexander: his writing hand, his lips, his cock. John took his time consuming Alexander piece by piece from his seat across the room.

Just as his hand started cramping, Alexander shifted, rolling onto his side. It gave John a moment of reprieve from his sketch of Alexander’s tummy. His new view of Alexander’s ass and back gave him a reason to fight through the pain.

He turned the page and started again. He traced the slope of his lower back into his smooth ass. The dip of his spine. The dark curve where his pubic hair started.

Drawing Alexander’s soft cock was nothing. For some reason, John felt himself stirring with interest. He adjusted himself, hoping he could stave off his erection by doubling his efforts on how the sheets wrapped around Alexander’s legs.

“Enjoying the view?”

John glanced up from his sketchbook to Alexander’s sleepy smile as he cradled a pillow closer to his face. He was caught. He had planned to finish this sketch and then climb back into bed and wake Alexander up the old-fashioned way with a blowjob. But since he was already awake…

“Of course I am,” John answered. His voice stuck in his throat like he was still learning to speak.

“Didn’t want to take a picture?” Alexander asked groggily.

“I haven’t sketched in so long and I realized I hadn’t drawn you yet.”

Alexander hummed and settled back into the bed, his muscles relaxing. John got up from his chair, the leather peeling from his skin, and joined Alexander. He stretched out along his back, pressing his half-hard erection into Alexander’s ass. Wrapping his arm around Alexander’s side, he presented his sketch for his boyfriend.

“What do you think?” he asked into Alexander’s hair. Alexander took the drawing from him to study it closer.

“You make me look so elegant.”

“You are so elegant.”

Alexander went silent as he continued to stare at John’s drawings of him. John closed his eyes and breathed deep, smelling Alexander’s musk. He ground his hips against Alexander’s ass as he sought relief from his growing issue.

“John, papa,” Alexander said, his voice gravelly. “It’s hard to concentrate on your drawing when you’re doing that.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

Alexander dramatically dropped John’s sketchbook.

“Did you seriously just ask me that question?”

John laughed, perhaps a little too loudly for 6:30am. Alexander rolled over and helped cover John’s laughter with a pillow as it echoed in the silent house. Once John’s laughter died down, Alexander pulled the pillow away and kissed John deeply. John ran his hand down Alexander’s luscious skin, his fingers finally finding purchase on his hip.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” John murmured, smiling brightly. He missed waking up with Alexander.

“So what do you have planned for us today?” Alexander asked, his eyes bright.

“Well,” John sighed happily. He gently pet at Alexander’s hip. “I was thinking we could go down to the faire today. I want you to get a true Southern experience. Corn on the cob, funnel cakes, ribs on ribs on ribs—“

“I can’t wait to see my health-nut boyfriend eat something deep-fried.”

“I eat all the deep-fried things,” John challenged. “Anything you find that’s deep-fried, I’ll eat it.” He could see the marvelous cogs moving in Alexander’s brain. While his stomach would be upset with him later, he knew the challenge would be worth it. The faire came around but once a year and to have Alexander there with him was certainly the best treat.

“Anything?” Alexander asked, his eyes drifting down to John’s lips.

“Anything,” he responded seductively.

Alexander took his face in his hands and kissed him deeply, his tongue licking sinfully into John’s mouth. He slowly rolled John on top of him and spread his legs, accommodating him. He moaned loudly as John ground his hips down, his erection trapped between them. But then John realized something.

“Please do not deep-fry your penis,” John breathed against Alexander’s lips.

The barking laugh Alexander let out was _loud_. John giggled as he shushed him. On the other side of the wall, John heard shifting and little voices. It was still too early for the kids to be out of their rooms, but knowing they were awake and could possibly hear them was enough for John to stop their fun times.

“Alexander… Alex…” John said between giggles.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Alexander laughed. “That thought definitely crossed my mind, though!”

John sighed happily. Moments like these reminded him how much he missed Alexander. They were so often on the same wavelength. No one down here really understood him like he did. Martha was the closest he had, but John rarely saw her. She didn’t care to be around the house much when Henry was home either.

“I love you,” John said dreamily.

“I love you too,” Alexander replied. John pecked him on the lips before climbing off of him.

“We should get downstairs and make breakfast for the kids.”

Alexander groaned and rolled over.

“But we were going to have sex—!” he lamented into a pillow.

John leaned over to Alexander’s ear and whispered, “I never said we weren’t.” He slapped Alexander’s ass, watching the flesh jiggle under his touch. “We both need showers. You especially, my dirty boy.” 

Alexander grinned wickedly and quickly chased John into the adjoining bathroom.

* * *

 

Their shower sex was extremely sensual and while Alexander was disappointed John refused to penetrate him, he certainly didn’t argue when John pushed him against the shower door and licked him open. John shivered when he saw Alexander’s semen splattered against the glass.

They were clean, dressed, and downstairs making waffles in less than 30 minutes – even after John let Alexander pick his outfit from his large walk-in closet.

It was just past 7:15am and they only had another 15 minutes before the hellraisers would be allowed out of their rooms to get ready.

Alexander crowded John against the counter, his arms wrapped around him as he mixed the batter for their gluten-free blueberry waffles. Alexander had stuck his nose up at the notion that these were healthy waffles, but John insisted that as long as they were in his house, these were the waffles they’d be eating. When he’d given up on that fight, Alexander took to pulling back John’s curtain of damp curls and kissing his neck.

When John heard the kids coming down the stairs, he quickly tasked Alexander with putting out the toppings. He knew the kids had seen a little bit of PDA the night before, but any more and he knew it would certainly get back to his father.

Jemmy and Junior peeled around the corner, their stocking feet sliding on the hardwood floors, with Mary Eleanor quickly hurrying at their heels. Martha followed behind, already tapping away on her phone.

“Siéntense!” John chimed from the counter. “Y’all better sit down or you’re not eating.”

In no time, the whole family was sitting down and the kids were happily eating and chattering away.

“What are you two doing today?” Martha asked John and Alexander as she cut up Mary Eleanor’s food.

“We’re going to the faire,” John replied, squeezing Alexander’s knee beneath the table.

“Can we come?!” Junior asked loudly. “I wanna go to the faire!”

“I wanna go on the rides!” Jemmy gasped. “I’m definitely tall enough for the bumper cars this year!”

John looked to Martha. He knew the kids wouldn’t have a chance to go once their father came home. The neighborhood barbeque was the next day and they missed all the other days. Some years, they didn’t get to go if Henry wasn’t in the mood to take them. But this year, John was legally an adult and he had another legal adult with him.

She smiled and turned to Junior and Jemmy. “We can go too, but I think Jack wants special time alone with Alexander.”

“But I wanna hang out with Jack and Alexander!” Jemmy argued. “They had special alone time last night, too. Remember?”

Alexander choked on his waffle.

“Well, we might bump into them at the faire!” Martha said. “I don’t think they’re going to want to do all the things we want to do, anyway. Jack's a boring adult now. He doesn’t want to go on rides.”

“That’s right,” John lied. “Rides are boring.”

He was absolutely going to get Alexander on the Ferris wheel and kiss him at the top.

_It might be my only chance all day._

“And you know Dad’s gonna be home late tonight, right?” Martha said, her tone suddenly serious. She watched John with a hardened gaze.

“I know.”

“Okay.”

Her unspoken ‘be careful’ was booming.

Alexander laced his fingers with John’s and gave him a tight smile. 

It was going to be a stressful day.

* * *

Breakfast finished without a hitch and the kids were sent off to do their chores. Thankfully, John was only required to finish folding the laundry, something he could do alone with Alexander. He didn’t ask him to help, but immediately, Alexander picked up any clothes he found and started folding. It was terribly domestic and made John’s heart swell. They chatted lovingly about all sorts of things: John’s siblings, Alexander’s refusal to update software on his computer, Lafayette’s road trip photos.

After their chores, Alexander insisted on time to write. That was fine with John. He just snuggled up to Alexander in the bed as he tapped away on his laptop. Alexander had things to work on for the Student Senate. He had been elected to the Treasurer for the Cabinet the following semester and already had a plethora of emails to read. John just wanted to hold his boyfriend close.

(They definitely got in some light making-out and grinding, much to John’s delight. He even managed to suck a hickey onto Alexander's neck.)

11am rolled around quickly and it was time to get to the faire.

“Jemmy! Junior! It’s time to go!” Martha yelled, her voice echoing through the enormous house. Alexander waited with her at the door as John buckled Mary Eleanor into her car seat in Martha’s car.

“Did you text Dad about driving your car?” John asked Martha.

“No, I thought you did.”

John groaned. He didn’t want to text their father. But then again, neither did Martha. He didn’t want to ruin his last good moments with Alexander. He finished buckling Mary Eleanor in and pulled out his phone.

 **To Henry Laurens** : _Can we use Martha’s car to go to the faire? We can’t fit everyone in my car._

John knew his father kept his phone on him at all times and it was too early for his flight.

_He should text back shortly..._

“Junior! Jemmy!” Martha yelled again.

“Coming—!” Junior called back. They heard a door slam, some bickering, then small feet hoofing it down the stairs.

The two young boys piled into the backseat with Mary Eleanor and slammed the doors shut.

“You know where to park?” John asked Martha.

“Yes, near the carillon,” she said dryly. “I know what to do, Jack.” She plucked her keys out of his fingers and climbed into the driver’s seat. It was so odd seeing his 16-year-old sister behind the wheel of a car. But here she was, with a litter of kids in the backseat.

The garage door rumbled open and John and Alexander rushed over to his car to follow Martha and the kids.

Soon, they dropped their cars off at the valet and were on their way to the faire. Alexander kept looking around at everything and John had to constantly place a guiding hand on his back. Jemmy had taken Alexander’s hand and was intent on holding it until they separated right inside the gate.

The faire was a big deal. It spanned the entire length of the largest park, spilling onto the surrounding side streets and even taking over a community center on the property. Along the edges was booth after booth selling all sorts of faire food: ribs, roasted chicken, deep-fried Snickers, corn-on-the-cob, fresh-squeezed lemonade…

John was in heaven. Subconsciously, he ate healthy all year in preparation for the Fourth of July Faire. His mouth watered as the delicious scent of barbeque wafted through his nose.

“This is insane,” Alexander said in amazement, glancing around at all the bright colors whirring past them.

“Ok, we’ll meet back up at 7 o’clock to get home by 8. Dad should be back by 11, and the kids have to be in bed by that time,” John planned with Martha. “Stay safe.”

“You too,” she echoed. She looked past him at Alexander who was swapping high-fives with Junior and Jemmy. “Alright, boys, let’s see if Jemmy’s tall enough for the bumper cars this year!”

The kids flitted off and disappeared in a swell of people. John turned to Alexander who was smiling brightly.

“You ready?” Alexander asked. John smiled back.

“Of course.”

They meandered around the lines, checking out everything the faire had to offer. Alexander made several observations about how similar to a lot of the faire-goers were to sheep, flocking to wherever had the most blue ribbons. His comments were mostly correct as he continued to narrate their walk around. The only time John managed to quiet Alexander was when there was food in his mouth.

_It’s a good thing nothing changes._

The problem with Alexander was that he often called attention to himself, and by default John, without meaning to. John could feel people’s eyes on them, staring at these two young men who were walking very closely together, gently touching each other, their fingers occasionally brushing together. On top of that, the outfit Alexander picked out for John included a pair of John’s tightest shorts. They put everything on display and left very little to the imagination. The only way John could have looked gayer was if he was covered in rainbow apparel.

He was constantly on edge, watching the eyes of passersby linger just a little too long. He didn’t want to call any unnecessary attention to themselves.

At one point, John left Alexander to grab their funnel cake as he dashed off to the bathroom. He emerged from the port-a-potty to find his worst nightmare coming true: Alexander interacting with a Conservative Southerner stranger.

“I mean, by all means, vote for Trump. He’s only filed for bankruptcy _four separate times_ and—“

“Alexander!” John interrupted. He should never have left him alone to wait as he used the bathroom. He grabbed Alexander’s bicep and dug his fingers in. John looked over to the middle-aged white man in a Hawaiian shirt who was the target of Alexander’s ammo. He slipped into his Southern accent as he apologized, “I’m so sorry about him. He’s got a bit of a temper when it comes to politics.”

“Keep your friend under control,” the man said gruffly. He rolled his eyes as he tottered away with his two funnel cakes to his equally annoyed wife.

“Y’all have a great day now!” John called after them. His accent disappeared as he turned back to Alexander. “What happened?”

“John, that man is wearing a shirt supporting a man who wants to build a wall between here and Mexico. I should be allowed to ask where he thinks we, as a country, are going to get the money for that sort of decision—“

“Baby girl, you can’t pick political fights with people here. They don’t like Latinos and they hate Liberals more. I know you think you’re educating people, but you need to be careful,” John explained. “Now you know I’m willing to physically fight for you, but my siblings are here somewhere and I don’t want them to see me like that.”

Alexander’s eyes softened.

“Right, sorry,” Alexander apologized. “I just get so _heated_ seeing people wearing Trump shirts. You don’t see those in New York as much.”

“Well, be prepared for my father,” John said as he picked at their funnel cake. “He’s a Ted Cruz supporter.” Alexander gagged in disgust. John giggled. Henry Laurens and Alexander Hamilton couldn’t be more different.

Alexander lingered for a second, gazing warmly at John. His eyes drifted down to his lips and John felt him lean in—

John jerked back.

“What are you doing?” John whispered harshly.

“You have powdered sugar on your lips,” Alexander replied, confused.

John grabbed a napkin from under the plate and quickly scrubbed at his lips. He stared at Alexander in disbelief.

“What made you think that was okay?”

“What, I can’t kiss my boyfriend?!”

“ _Not here!_ ” John chastised him. He sighed heavily. Alexander was so stubborn. John ducked in close to whisper to him, “I was planning on kissing you at the top of the Ferris wheel later.”

“You could kiss me here, too,” Alexander murmured lowly, a voice John only heard in the bedroom. “Stick it to these nasty homophobes.”

“There’re no protection laws here for us—“ A hitch in John’s voice betrayed him.

“I think it’s worth the risk to feel your lips on mine and show these fuckers how hot I am for you.”

They were standing so close with a funnel cake on a paper plate between them. The pair was breathing the same air. All John had to do was lean in a couple inches and press his lips against Alexander’s…

“ _Hey faggots!_ ”

The words felt like an arrow to his back. John whipped his head around to see a trio of twenty-something men pointing and laughing.

“ _Cocksuckers!_ ”

John could feel more people staring at them. A piercing, high-pitched noise screamed in his head.

“ _Fuckin’ homos! Y'all gonna buttfuck in the port-a-potty?_ ”

“Don’t listen to them,” Alexander said. His voice brought John right back to where he was. The noise stopped. Alexander’s eyes were wild with protest and it was all John needed. He leaned forward and kissed Alexander wetly, tasting the sweetness of the funnel cake on his boyfriend’s lips.

John could faintly hear the guys saying gross shit as he kept kissing Alexander. His hands came up to cradled his face, his thumbs gently stroking his cheeks. His fingers managed to tug some strands out of Alexander’s messy bun.

When the men finally passed, John pulled back.

“That’s definitely sticking it to the homophobes,” Alexander said dazedly.

John breathed deeply to get his heart under control. He was terrified someone was standing right behind him to pummel him to the ground. His eyes darted around, looking at the others. People were staring, but no one was saying anything else. Some were shaking their heads, some were shielding their children’s eyes. But there were a few people who were smiling directly at him. One blonde woman with an infant strapped to her chest gave him a small thumbs-up.

“Was that so bad?” Alexander asked, his hand slowly stroking John’s back.

“I don’t like the staring,” John muttered.

“Well, I’d stare at you regardless, so I think you should get over that,” he said sweetly. John smiled and shook his head. It was such an Alexander answer. Alexander offered his hand for John to take. “C’mon. I’ve got so many other deep-fried things to watch you eat. I may even develop a feeder kink like Hercules has.”

“Yeah, _what_ is up with that?” John asked as he laced their fingers together. They had already made their moment of protest and nothing happened. John didn’t want to live in fear anymore.

“I’m not sure,” Alexander replied. “I’ve never seen a girl eat _so much food_ in front of her boyfriend. Like, he just piles up a plate for her and it’s _massive_ and she eats all of it? And he’s got the same look you get when I’m blowing you. Totally a feeder kink.”

“Do you think that’s why they go to all-you-can-eat Korean barbeque after volleyball?!”

“I bet.”

“No way!”

“Okay,” Alexander said, a twinkle in his eye, “If _I_ win, you fuck me whenever, wherever I want for a week. If _you_ win, you can tie me up and do whatever you want to me for a full 24 hours, no writing. Deal?”

John grinned. Naturally, Alexander chose ante that was mutually beneficial.

“Deal.”

Alexander kissed his cheek.

“Oh! You didn’t mention there would be games here!” Alexander said excitedly. He dragged John over to a booth where the prize was a goldfish. “I’m gonna win you a goldfish, John.”

He dug into his pocket for his wallet and John hurried to stop him.

“Baby girl, I don’t need a goldfish,” he laughed. Alexander stopped, but he looked a little hurt. John smirked. “I’d prefer one of those oversized stuffed lions.”

He pointed to the booth with the aforementioned lions. It was a dart-throwing game. Alexander seemed to get more excited.

“Darts?! I’m a champ at darts! I beat Angelica all the time at darts at the union!” he said rapidly. Alexander grabbed John’s hand and hauled him across the path to prove his hand.

20 minutes and $50 later, John watched in childlike jubilance as the booth attendant plucked the oversized lion plush off the wall and handed it to Alexander who then lovingly passed it to John.

“Thank you, baby girl,” John cooed, kissing Alexander sweetly.

“Hey!”

John froze, fearing the booth attendant was going to chastise them like the creeps at the funnel cake stand.

“You two are super cute,” the booth attendant said with a smile as she rearranged stuffed animals. “Hope you have a great day at the faire!” She tucked her braids behind her ear, covertly revealing a tattoo of the transgender symbol on her neck. Her bright smile was filled with relief.

Just when John thought South Carolina would never evolve, he met people who changed his mind. He still needed to fight for all people of South Carolina.

“Are you ready to keep going?” Alexander asked, his fingers gently stroking John’s skin under his t-shirt.

“I am,” John confirmed with a small smile.

They wandered around the faire a bit longer. Alexander insisted on winning John a few more prizes from the booths (“I’m a champion at the claw machine, so I guess I’m good at rigged games.”) They actually bumped into John’s siblings at the strongman game where Junior did really well. Everyone was happy and together. Even little Mary Eleanor hadn’t asked to be carried yet. After Junior won his prize, the groups split again as the boys needed to use the bathroom. Martha shooed the kids off with her, leaving Alexander and John alone again.

“Did you choose a name yet?” Alexander asked, taking John’s hand in his.

“I was going to name him after _my_ little lion,” John smiled sweetly. “Hamilton.”

“Not Alexander?”

“There can only be one Alexander for me,” he answered. A faint blush spread across Alexander’s cheeks. John planted a delicate kiss on his lips.

The sun was setting, the light low in the sky. They had spent almost the entire day together wandering around the faire with only mild problems. But as the sun got lower, John felt sick to his stomach and unfortunately, it wasn’t due to all the deep-fried food Alexander made him eat. It was only a few hours until his father would be getting home and everything that was once in color would turn to stark grey.

“John?”

Alexander stopped John, who had been lost in thought, right in front of the Ferris wheel.

“Yes, baby girl?” John replied, shaking the haze out of his head. He needed to not think about his father while he was still having a brilliant time with his boyfriend.

“I know I spoiled your plan, but do you still want to kiss me at the top of the Ferris wheel?” he asked flirtingly.

“Of course I do,” John confirmed.

They got in line and in no time, they were climbing into the small car with John sandwiched between Alexander and Hamilton the Lion.

The wheel went around and they were able to see all of the faire: the large music stage where Iron & Wine was playing, long thin smoke stacks above the rib vendors, crowds of people circling the faire like rats in a maze. John loved the Ferris wheel because it allowed him to see the world from a different viewpoint and experience how small everything could seem from above.

Meanwhile, next to him, Alexander has been completely silent. When Alexander was quiet for too long, John often needed to release the valve himself and let his thoughts flow out.

“Alexander?” he asked. “What are you thinking about?”

Alexander slowly turned toward him and he looked _petrified_.

“I may have forgotten to mention that I’m afraid of heights,” Alexander answered, his voice small and tight.

John’s heart melted.

“Baby girl…” John sighed. He leaned in and kissed Alexander. Though they weren’t at the top, it was still worth it to know his boyfriend faced a fear for him. He didn’t stop kissing his terrified boyfriend until they were about to get off the ride.

“Thank you, Alexander,” John said warmly, his thumb stroking Alexander’s cheek.

“Any time,” Alexander exhaled. John could feel his tension releasing under his fingertips.

The warmth in John’s chest stayed with him as they ventured back to the valet to meet his siblings. Sure enough, Martha and the kids were waiting for him, sitting on the curb. Within minutes they were all piled into their cars and on the way back to the house.

The drive home was wonderful. John and Alexander rolled down the windows and let the warm, humid Charleston air whip around them. For a moment, John pretended he and his husband were driving back to their estate from a grand night out with their friends and were about to retire to their room to have long luxurious sex.

John pulled into the drive and the porch lights were on, illuminating the drive. He parked the car right near the front door in the circle, rolling up the windows. The ride back had been spent discussing the faire and Alexander giving his tips and tricks to the faire games.

“So when it comes to the bucket toss, you have to actually aim for the _back_ of the bucket so the ball rolls along the side and doesn’t just bounce out,” Alexander explained as they climbed out of the car. John grabbed Hamilton out of the back seat and met Alexander on the passenger side of the car, crowding him against the warm metal. Alexander wrapped his arms around John’s waist.

“Where did you learn all of this? You’ve never been to a county faire before,” John said warmly.

“Au contraire, I’ve been to school fairs where they have all the same games,” Alexander explained. “I impressed a lot of girlfriends and boyfriends in my day.”

“Have you really?” he chuckled. He was so distracted by Alexander’s mouth so close to his.

“Oh, definitely.”

He captured Alexander’s lips in a long, slow, languid kiss. Underneath him, he could feel Alexander relaxing. When he was finally loose, he was at his most pliable and John could do whatever he wanted to him—

“ _Jack Laurens_.”

John’s blood ran _cold_.

He had never scrambled away from Alexander faster _in his life_.’

His hands tightened on Hamilton, fingers digging into the soft plush, as he tried to control his shaking.

Henry Laurens was home early.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh.


	3. henry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry Laurens & his destruction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna straight up say it: if emotional abuse/child abuse ain't your thing, you might want to jump on out of this fic. It's not going to get any better from here on out.
> 
> Henry Laurens looks like Edward James Olmos in this universe. So.
> 
> Also, the Spanish is a'ight and I apologize if it's shit. (And yeah, Henry uses formal language with his children because he's The Worst.)
> 
> Enjoy?

Despite the Southern humidity, John felt a frigid breeze grace his skin.

Henry Laurens, patriarch of the Laurens clan, was standing in the doorway to the house. His stern face was unblinking as he bore holes through his son. His knuckles were white where he clutched the doorframe.

“Get in here. _Now_ ,” he said firmly, his face unchanging, his tone unwavering.

John’s heart was racing. He hadn’t been in so much trouble with his father since he was 16 and accidentally stayed out past curfew. John had never had a heart attack, but he figured this is what one felt like.

Alexander placed a gentle hand on his lower back. The warmth of his palm through the fabric was certainly soothing, but was also the source of his problems.

Just then, Martha pulled into the drive with the other kids.

John was dead on arrival.

With downcast eyes, John quickly hurried to the door and followed his father inside, Alexander close behind. Henry shut the door with a firm slam, like the final nail in John’s coffin. He said nothing else. The silence in the house was deafening. All John could hear was his own labored breathing and the rapid clip of his heartbeat.

Henry led John and Alexander into the family room where his liquor cabinet was located. He silently poured himself a healthy glass of bourbon, his hand steady and his pace unwavering. A golf tournament rerun was on TV. John didn’t sit. He was too afraid to. He hugged Hamilton the Lion closer to his chest like a shield. Alexander stood dutifully nearby, his fingers gripped on the back of the sofa.

The garage door echoed in the house as it rumbled closed and his siblings spilled inside. Their small voices chattered like little birds, talking excitedly about the day.

“Hi Dad!” Jemmy said cheerfully. He waved to his father who waved back with a tight smile. Junior waved too, both boys then racing each other up the stairs to their room to play.

“Martha,” Henry said simply. John could see every muscle in her body go rigid as she carefully balanced a sleeping Mary Eleanor on her hip.

“Yes Dad?” she asked, her voice only faltering for a millisecond.

“Put Mary Eleanor to bed, then I want to have a talk with you after I’m done speaking to Jack,” he said as he took a seat in his favorite recliner.

“Yes sir,” she mumbled before trudging up the stairs. John knew she was going to take her time.

Suddenly, all attention was on John and Alexander.

“Estoy muy decepcionado con usted, Jack,” Henry began.

“Lo siento, padre,” John murmured. He had played this game with Henry too many times before. He knew beating around the bush solved nothing. It never got him in a better place or an easier sentence. The punishment was always swift.

“What are you sorry about, son?” he asked, then took a sip of his bourbon, not once making eye contact with John.

John fidgeted with the fur at Hamilton’s mane. He knew exactly what rules he had broken. He knew precisely what his father wanted him to say, but the words snagged in his throat. John didn’t _want_ to apologize to his father. He didn’t see anything wrong with what he did.

“Jack. Hable.”

The lump in John’s throat grew larger.

Henry sighed heavily, his eyes still fixed on the television.

“Let’s start with how you didn’t wait for me to reply to your text message about Martha’s car before you used it,” Henry explained steadily. “I suppose you couldn’t be bothered to check your phone again later in the day, because I had replied back saying _you_ needed to drive the kids. Martha isn’t old enough to drive that many people at once. So imagine my surprise when I see you pull up in your car with your friend—“

“Boyfriend—“ Alexander chimed in.

_Not now, Alexander!_

“Young man, I am speaking right now,” his father said rapidly, his eyes trained directly on Alexander like a sniper.

“I understand that sir, but I’m not his friend. I’m his boyfriend,” Alexander repeated. “I wanted to make that clear."

John knew both of them and while he knew that tactic worked on him and his siblings, he also knew Alexander fed on that type of attention.

He could see his father’s blood boiling beneath the surface.

“Alexander, stop,” John whispered.

“John—“

John gave Alexander a look that shut him up right away. The more he opened his mouth, the worse it was going to be for John.

Henry took a large swig from his glass.

“I had hoped that you went over the etiquette rules in this house with your guest, Jack, before you introduced us,” Henry said with a sigh. “But that must have been another thing that slipped your mind, much like how I made _explicitly clear_ there was to be _zero_ public displays of affection in my household while he was here. The children are incredibly impressionable at this age and I don’t want them getting any false ideas of what is acceptable and proper.”

That felt like a kick to the chest. The car thing was equally his and Martha’s faults. But this? This was all him. A small clump of fur came off Hamilton’s mane and into John’s hand.

“And you must have skipped showing him the guest bedroom where he was supposed to sleep last night. It looked shockingly the same as how your grandmother left it five months ago, right down to the fine layer of dust on the nightstand,” Henry continued. His condescending tone dug into John like razor wire.

He polished off his glass of bourbon and gingerly placed it on the small end table. John’s father’s eyes finally – finally – landed on him. His long, hard gaze pinned John to the spot.

“Now, dear Jack, do you know what you’re sorry about?” he asked.

John took a deep breath. Tears threatened to come out. The lump in his throat was thick and heavy.

“I’m sorry I let Martha drive all the kids,” he murmured. He had never felt his voice so shaky. “I’m sorry we were kissing on your property. I’m sorry I let Alexander sleep in my room.”

Henry stared at John, his expression unchanging.

“You should feel very lucky you have a guest here, Jack.”

John knew he was for more reasons than one.

“Now,” Henry said, his tone softening into something conversational, “I’ll let you and your friend move his things down to the guest bedroom. I’m giving you—“ he checked his watch, “One hour of time together before I’m sending you both to your rooms. That is gracious of me considering the amount of disrespect I’ve been given so far.” His eyes bounced from John to Alexander and back.

Henry settled back into his chair, the leather creaking under his weight. His eyes were once again on the golf tournament. The golfer on the screen sunk the ball into the hole with a short putt. Henry clenched his fist in celebration.

John’s arms ached from how tightly he was holding Hamilton. There were marks in his arms from the seams of the plush. He wasn’t going to cry. Crying only made everything worse.

_“¡Para ya! Do you want your friends to see you like this? You are ruining your own birthday party. Ten-year-old boys don’t cry. Deje de ser un maricón.”_

“C’mon, Alexander,” John said hollowly. He was a shell of his former self. His bones felt empty and his stomach gutted. He could see Alexander’s fingers itching to touch him and to John’s relief, didn’t reach out. It was in their best interest to not push it.

He couldn’t meet Alexander’s eyes. His boyfriend had seen Henry Laurens at his worst. There was no coming back from this. He’d never be seen as a man in Alexander’s eyes, just a small disrespectful child like his father saw.

It wasn’t too late to change dorms for the year.

They climbed the stairs, passing Martha on her way down. She stared at him with wide, terrified eyes. Of all the children, John bared the brunt of Henry’s words. He also had the thickest skin. Martha was going to get a lighter conversation, but she wasn’t cut out to take it like him.

It was going to be another night hearing Martha’s own muffled crying matching his own.

They reached his room and John just stood in the middle. His eyes became transfixed at the burn on his rug where he had dropped a lit joint a couple summers ago. As he cowered on his floor that night, trying to cover the burn, there was a fleeting moment when John wasn’t sure if he was going to leave his room on his own two feet or in a body bag.

Alexander closed the door silently. He placed a hand on John’s back as he circled around him. Gently, he pulled Hamilton free from John’s arms, placing him on the bed only a few feet away.

John couldn’t stop staring at that _spot_.

_“You will go with Belinda Villareal to the debutante ball. You will kiss her. Usted no me va avergonzar.”_

Alexander’s fingers lifted his chin, forcing him to look up. Worried eyes met his and then the tears started coming. Immediately, Alexander encircled him with his arms, hugging him tightly. John tucked his face into Alexander’s neck, wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s waist, and _wept_.

He let himself be held. John didn’t trust his legs to keep him upright.

Alexander tugged at his ponytail holder and tangled his fingers in John’s loose curls.

“It’s okay,” he whispered against John’s ear. “You’re okay. I’m here. I’m here. I’m here…”

John had to stop. He had to stop crying. He was wasting precious minutes of his time left with Alexander _crying_.

The world stilled and they were there in the middle of his room, just swaying in place. John wasn’t sobbing anymore, but his tears certainly didn’t _stop_.

“I understand now why you don’t ever want to speak Spanish around me,” Alexander mused. John chuckled. He had told Alexander how his father used Spanish as a weapon around them but he never understood how nasty his father could actually be.

John tried to step away from Alexander, but was met with resistance. He wanted to lay down. Alexander wasn’t letting him go.

“Alexander, please,” John mumbled into Alexander’s neck. He let him lift his head. He stared at Alexander blearily through the tears.

“I love you _so fucking much_ , John,” Alexander said surely. “I love you more than anything in this world. You are so precious to me. You are perfect, and wonderful, and beautiful, and _brave_. I have never met a single person in my entire life that inspires me more than you. _God_ , you inspire me. I’m bursting with joy when I see you. I am a better man because of you. I love you so, so, _so_ much.”

After a moment, Alexander kissed him tenderly, a kiss so soft it made John release a sob.

Never once did John have someone to love him after his father’s words.

“I love you too, Alexander Hamilton,” John exhaled shakily. Alexander kissed him again, a little harder, like their normal kisses. Then he kissed his cheek, then his jaw, then his neck. He kept peppering John in quick kisses until he forced a smile on John’s lips.

“Alexander…” John chuckled.

Alexander pulled back and gave him the brightest smile.

“That’s better,” Alexander said sweetly. “I know that I can’t fix everything, but I don’t want to waste the time we have together.”

Always on the same wavelength.

John nodded. He didn’t quite trust his voice yet. Alexander glanced around the room.

“Do you want to lay down on your bed?”

John nodded again. He toed off his shoes before climbing onto the bed, curling around Hamilton. Alexander joined him, spooning up behind him. Alexander slipped his hand up John’s shirt and rested his bare palm over John’s heart.

They were quiet for a few minutes as John steadied his breathing to Alexander’s. He was sandwiched between his two lions and there wasn’t anywhere John would rather be.

Then, Alexander started singing softly in his ear. It wasn’t a tune John recognized, nor one he thought was real. Unfortunately, his Alexander was not blessed with an ear for music. He rapped rather well, but when it came to carrying a heartier tune, he was at a loss. But that didn’t mean his voice wasn’t beautiful. It was a deep honeyed baritone that was like dipping into a warm bath. It enveloped him like a blanket. Alexander sang for nearly the whole hour, soft dulcet tones like a lullaby.

A polite chime went off on Alexander’s phone. He must have set an alarm when John wasn’t looking earlier.

“I have to get downstairs,” Alexander whispered in his ear. John rolled over to look at Alexander who leaned down and kissed him. “Goodnight, papa.”

John sighed heavily. Last night was incredible and he wanted another one of those. But he was counting his lucky stars that Henry Laurens didn’t put Alexander on the next flight back to New York.

“Goodnight, baby girl,” John replied. One more peck on the lips, and then Alexander was collecting his things to bring downstairs. He was out of John’s room after an hour on the dot.

John sat up on the edge of the bed and placed his feet on the floor.

_Deep breath in, deep breath out._

He didn’t really want to do anything else put follow Alexander downstairs. He wanted to be wrapped in his love again. The heat from Alexander’s palm on his chest was still etched over his heart.

Slowly, John got ready for bed. It was still too early to sleep. John wasn’t a small child anymore and it took more than a day at the faire and a lashing from his father to knock him out for the night.

On the contrary, his eyes hurt. His skin stung – probably sunburn. He stripped down naked and climbed back into bed, his phone in hand. With Hamilton cradled to his chest, John laughed quietly to himself.

_I still have Hamilton with me._

His phone vibrated with a text message.

 **From Baby Girl <3**: _At least he didn’t take your phone away._

 **To Baby Girl <3**: _That is very true._

 **From Baby Girl <3**: _The look he gave me when I walked past the family room? Chilling. You would’ve thought I fucked his baby boy or something._

 **To Baby Girl <3**: _omg_

 **From Baby Girl <3**: _It’s a good thing he doesn’t know how good his son is at giving head._

 **From Baby Girl <3**: _Or maybe he should know. Maybe he’d actually respect you._

 **From Baby Girl <3**: _Do you want me to tell him? How good his son is at sucking dick?_

 **To Baby Girl <3**: _Please don’t. You’d probably give him a heart attack._

 **To Baby Girl <3**: _Never mind. You should definitely tell him._

 **From Baby Girl <3**: _Be right back. ;D_

John smiled widely. He knew Alexander wouldn’t _actually_ tell his dad; he wouldn’t deprive John of watching his father drop dead.

 **From Baby Girl <3**: _Can you send me a dick pic? I’m lonely._

John rolled his eyes. His boyfriend was _ridiculous_.

 **To Baby Girl <3**: _I don’t think I can get hard tonight, baby girl._

 **From Baby Girl <3**: _You know I don’t always need you hard._

John’s mind flashed back to all the instances when Alexander insisted on giving John a blowjob, even when John was still soft. He loved the challenge and the feeling of John getting hard in his mouth. John had lost count of the number of times Alexander had done that.

He sighed and complied, taking as much time as he could to take a picture he knew Alexander would like. His phone vibrated again with a text message.

“I’m hurrying, baby girl. Give me a second,” John muttered aloud.

John sent the photo – one of the best he’d ever taken, if you asked him – then realized who he _actually_ sent it to.

 **From Eliza Schuyler** : _WHAT THE FUCK, JOHN LAURENS._

 **From Eliza Schuyler** : _WHY ARE YOU SENDING ME A PICTURE OF YOUR FLACCID PENIS._

 **From Baby Girl <3**: _Are you sending it? 8=====D (that’s you)_

 **From Eliza Schuyler** : _ALEX TEXTED ME AND SAID YOU WERE HAVING A ROUGH VISIT_

 **From Eliza Schuyler** : _BUT WHEN I TEXT YOU, I GET A DICK PIC._

 **To Eliza Schuyler** : _I’M SO SORRY ELIZA_

 **To Eliza Schuyler** : _I THOUGHT I WAS SENDING IT TO ALEXANDER_

 **From Eliza Schuyler** : _I knew that was the real answer but jfc I did not want to see my best friend’s penis. :(_

 **From Baby Girl <3**: _YOU SENT IT TO ELIZA????????_

 **To Eliza Schuyler** : _I’m so sorry._

 **From Eliza Schuyler** : _ugh_

 **From Eliza Schuyler** : _It’s going to be tough scrubbing that out of my brain._

 **From Baby Girl <3**: _Did she like it?_

 **To Baby Girl <3**: _Not at all._

 **From Eliza Schuyler** : _Anyway_

 **From Eliza Schuyler** : _I’m glad you and Alex are figuring things out despite the present obstacles._

 **From Eliza Schuyler** : _Have you heard from Hercules recently?_

 **To Eliza Schuyler** : _I haven’t. Sorry. :(_

 **From Eliza Schuyler** : _Thanks anyway. I’ll let you get back to Alexander._

 **To Eliza Schuyler** : _Sorry again. For everything._

 **From Eliza Schuyler** : _It was a mistake. You’re forgiven. Though I will say it’s nice to know now what Alex waxes poetic about…_

 **To Eliza Schuyler** : _Not you too!_

 **From Eliza Schuyler** : _;D_

 **To Baby Girl <3** sent a photo.

 **From Baby Girl <3**: _Mm. That’s what I’m talking about. God, how do you always look so good?_

They texted for hours after that. It amazed John sometimes that despite talking every single day, even living together, they never ran out of things to talk about. Not like they minded the companionable silences, but they had so much to discuss. From their disastrous childhoods to sitcoms to favorite spinach recipes to animal land speed to ranking Presidents by attractiveness ( **From Baby Girl <3**: _Arthur, John. Those muttonchops? Fuck me sideways._ ), it never ended. They had pages upon pages of old text messages that could rival War and Peace in length. Alexander had a superpower in turning John's entire mood around and making him forget how terrible his life could be.

At some time around midnight, Alexander stopped responding. John supposed he had fallen asleep on accident or got distracted by his writing. It was par for the course, really. He sighed and scrolled back through their conversation, reading over the part where John talked about his body image issues. He worked really hard to maintain his body and yet saw the chubby kid Henry Laurens teased all those years ago.

 **To Baby Girl <3**: _I just feel so fat. And I do all this work and still hate what I see. I can still see the fat on my stomach that won’t go away._

 **From Baby Girl <3**: _Fuck, don’t remind me of your incredibly hot, ripped stomach, John. All I can think about is all those times when we’d both come on your stomach and I’d lick it off._

John grinned like a loon. He remembered this one time when he was blindfolded when Alexander did that—

The bedroom door handle turned.

John scrambled to hide his phone and look as innocent as possible under his blanket. His father had a habit of checking in on them to _make sure_ they were in their rooms.

“John!”

He turned over to find Alexander at his door, slipping into the darkness of his room, and shutting the door behind him.

“What are you doing?!” John whispered. He was panicking because his father would _murder_ them if he found out where Alexander was.

“I wanted to see you,” Alexander said quickly, climbing into bed and straddling John.

“I get that, but my dad will see you!” he replied. Henry went to bed late and was definitely watching their movements.

“No he won’t. I listened to him shut off the TV and go upstairs. I followed him and made sure he went to his room before I came upstairs for you. Your father is not quiet at all when he’s going to bed.”

John knew that to be true.

“And I was laying down there, thinking about you, and I couldn’t fathom that you were literally upstairs and I couldn’t be with you.”

Alexander kissed him deeply as he pinned him to the bed. It was incredible having Alexander’s weight on him. His hands were pawing at the blanket, trying to get at John. He lifted himself up enough to pull the sheets down and off the bed.

“Oh, _John_ ,” Alexander breathed as he took in John’s naked body.

John preened under the attention, purposefully stretching his arms above his head and spreading his curls out to fan around his face.

“Yes, Alexander?” he flirted back.

Alexander _growled_ and pinned John’s hands on either side of his head. John’s breath hitched and his eyes grew wide. There were few times when Alexander wanted to be dominant with John and it was a heady feeling when he was. John typically liked to be taken care of in a gentle manner, but when Alexander wanted to dominate, it was usually in John’s best interest to go along with it.

John felt Alexander’s clothed hips shift against his own and his erection was certainly tenting his shorts. John’s mouth when dry when he realized Alexander had _followed his father up the stairs while sporting an unmistakable boner._

 _Fuck_ , did that do something to John.

“I wanted to prove to you that you’re the sexiest man I’ve ever met,” Alexander said darkly.

“How are you going to do that?” John asked, his voice hoarse.

Alexander let go of his wrists to peel off his shirt and shucked off his shorts, leaving him gloriously naked above John. Once his hands were back on John’s wrists, he slotted their cocks next to each other and _ground_ his hips down.

“We’re both gonna come all over your beautiful chiseled stomach and I’m going to lick it all up.”

John _whined_.

That’s when Alexander rapidly fucked his hips against John’s, their erections pinned between John’s hard stomach and Alexander’s soft one. It was just how John liked it.

They had talked about Alexander’s previous partners and how he was more submissive with men and more dominant with women. It interested John that he existed in this sexual middle ground and it all depended on his partner. John loved dominating Alexander, he did. But to be dominated _by_ Alexander? To see the hungry, predatory look in his eyes?

John _loved_ it.

He felt helpless under Alexander’s heated gaze, only illuminated by the moonlight streaming in through the window. He couldn’t _move_ ; his body was just being used to rub off on. All Alexander was doing was looking at him as he was and going on pure animal instincts. The bed squeaked rhythmically under them.

“Yeah, fucking take it,” Alexander murmured hotly. “Your hot fucking body, _Christ_ , John. It’s all mine. It’s mine mine _mine_. I take your pictures of your washboard abs and your gorgeous thighs – _fuck_ your thighs – and I show them to people. I _brag_ that my boyfriend is not only hung but the _sexiest_ person I’ve ever met. How much I love it when this body fucks me **_so good_**. You are the whole package, _querido._ ”

John sobbed in ecstasy. His heart cracked open.

He hadn’t heard loving words in Spanish since his mother passed away.

“Te amo, John. Te quiero con todo mi alma. Si nada nos salva de la muerte, al menos que el amor nos salve de la vida,” Alexander said in reverence as he snapped his hips against John’s. His words were like a prayer recited a hundred times. He imagined Alexander repeating these words after he had fallen asleep, Pablo Neruda whispered into his skin.

“Te amo, te amo,” he murmured in reply, words he hadn’t ever spoken. “Te amo, Alexander—!”

Then John arched his back and came, his release wrung out of him. His semen streaked up his chest and pooled at his stomach. Alexander ducked down and kissed John passionately as he snapped his hips forward again and again. He let go of John’s wrists to hold his face and John did the same, kissing Alexander with everything he had. Then he felt Alexander’s hips stutter, his kiss falter, and he was coming as well, joining the mess on John’s stomach.

His hips slowed, as did their kissing. Just as John mused whether Alexander was serious about his vow, he slid down John’s body. His tongue lapped at the highest splash of semen on his chest and he kissed his way down John’s torso. Alexander groaned loudly as he licked up every drop of their mutual release. John’s muscles jumped under the ministrations. Alexander even took the opportunity to suck John’s soft cock into his mouth. His boyfriend was always the most thorough.

Once Alexander felt he had sufficiently cleaned John, he moved back up to kiss John. He could taste the saltiness on Alexander’s tongue and _oh,_ how he loved that. They were filthy, yes, but no judgment from anyone could ever change that.

“I love you, John Laurens,” Alexander murmured against his lips.

“Te amo, Alexander Hamilton,” John answered. He felt Alexander smile.

“Te amo.” One more languid kiss to John’s lips before Alexander was off of him and putting his clothes back on. Once Alexander was dressed, he pecked John and was out the door in a flash, leaving John all alone in his room that now _reeked_ of sex.

John grabbed Hamilton the Lion and hugged him tightly. He hated seeing Alexander go but the scent of their escapades reminded him of the months they had spent together at school. It was only a couple more months until he was free to be himself again.

His room was hot and humid despite the central air. John flopped back on his bed, spreading his limbs out to cool down. His mind was still with Alexander and how absolutely _amazing_ he was.

John’s phone buzzed.

 **From Baby Girl <3**: _Besos, mi amor._

 **To Baby Girl <3**: _Besos, baby girl. <3_

That was the best night of sleep John had alone in his childhood bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The porn wasn't supposed to happen, but here we are.
> 
> Also, the Pablo Neruda quote means: "If nothing saves us from death, may love at least save us from life."


	4. the fourth of july

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Fourth of July.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: Unwanted physical contact, child abuse, racism/classism/homophobia/The Works, emotional abuse, super petty revenge. Shit gets real, y'all.
> 
> This chapter almost killed me. I swear to god. It's so long. And it's just... everything. All the things. I don't even remember half of it 'cause it took me so long to write it. I'm so sorry. And there's one more chapter. It'll be a sort of epilogue, maybe 1k words. Not long at all.
> 
> Soooo yeah. Enjoy?

John woke to banging on his door.

“Jack?” the little voice yelled. “Jaaaaaaack!”

He groaned and rolled over. Sunlight was streaming through the window in large beams, soaking the room in warmth. He grabbed his phone and glanced at the time.

_10:14am?!_

The last time John had slept in that late was at school when he and Alexander had their first real day of marathon sex.

_Alexander…_

This was _his_ fault.

His mind flickered back to the night before when Alexander held him down and fucked him. John’s heart sped up. They needed to talk about last night because that was something John _definitely_ wanted to explore further.

John sat up and fumbled around his room for a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. While Alexander was a big fan of his nudity, he was pretty sure his 9-year-old brother did not need a 9am anatomy lesson.

On the other side of the door was Jemmy in his Sunday best. They weren’t a church-going family, really, and especially not when they were hosting the neighborhood’s Fourth of July barbeque.

Jemmy gasped when he saw John.

“Were you sleeping all this time?!” he asked loudly.

“I was,” John replied dazedly. Jemmy’s shrill voice was something he was not used to hearing first thing in the morning. “Are you wearing your church clothes for the barbeque?”

“Yup! Derrick and Matthew are coming over,” Jemmy explained before flitting downstairs. To his father, this was probably just a boy trying to impress his friends. To _John_ , he knew Jemmy had a crush on Matthew. It was the cutest thing and a secret he and his sister held unspoken between them. All summer it had been ‘Matthew this, Matthew that, Matthew likes my freckles!’

Oh boy did John need to tell Jemmy about boys who like freckles.

_They make the best boyfriends._

Speaking of Alexander, he was coming up the stairs as Jemmy ran down. His pace quickened when he realized John was awake. His face was lit up with a bright smile.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he smirked. He was always so smug when he fucked John well enough to sleep through his alarm.

“Good morning,” John purred in response, tugging Alexander into his room. He shut the door as much as he could without closing it. With his father up and awake, they couldn’t risk the sound.

They hugged each other tightly and John savored the feeling of having Alexander once more in his arms. He gave Alexander a long soft kiss, his pliant lips so tender underneath his.

“How is it down there?” John asked in a hushed voice.

“Awful,” Alexander sighed. “I didn’t sleep at all last night. Between your father’s reprimand and fucking you senseless, my brain was wide-awake. I wrote about four think-pieces for Medium before I heard Henry come down the stairs. Then I made the fatal mistake of leaving my room before you texted me and I got roped into the worst conversation of my life with your father.”

John’s eyes went wide. That was the _last_ thing he needed was Alexander and his father having a one-on-one conversation. The few words Alexander said to him last night were enough to give John grey hair. He closed his eyes, his brow furrowed in concern.

“Please tell me you didn’t tell him off like you said you might,” John begged. He cracked an eye open to see Alexander biting his lip nervously. “Alexander, _assure_ me that you didn’t—“

Alexander’s squeaky giggle cut him off. John exhaled.

“You know I wouldn’t let you miss that,” Alexander laughed. “No, I just got to listen to him lecture Jemmy about the perils of homosexuality. It was definitely indirectly directed at me, particularly when he said, ‘And they may tempt you when you’re trapped in an unsavory living situation.’” John groaned.

“I hate him so much.”

“Another thing we have in common.”

“That we do…” John said distractedly as he leaned in for another kiss. He didn’t enjoy waking up in the morning without Alexander by his side. The fact he had to wait five whole minutes to kiss him after awaking was a travesty. The day was going to be chaotic and he wasn’t sure how much time they were going to get alone as it was. With all the neighborhood families crawling around the property, John was going to be lucky if he could even _look_ at Alexander without his father scolding him for indecency.

So John took his time, letting his tongue lap into Alexander’s eager mouth, tasting his minty-fresh breath. He loved the slow sensual kisses just as much as the hurried ones. He loved how he could pour his deep warm of Alexander into a kiss without the pressure of fucking him fast and hard at the same time. He loved being able to explore his lover’s mouth and tease him or charm him or cherish him.

His body was certainly waking up in its usual fashion…

“Jack…”

His father’s voice drifted up the stairs.

Fastest boner-killer ever.

John reluctantly drew back from Alexander.

“Yes Dad?” he called in response as Alexander took the opportunity to lavish his earlobe with affection, biting it gently between his teeth.

“I hope you are getting ready for the day considering you chose to sleep in,” he chided. "Apúrate." John didn’t even need to see his father’s face to know the annoyed look he had.

“Yes, sir,” John replied, rolling his eyes. He turned back to Alexander.

“If we’re not downstairs in about 10 minutes, he’s coming up here,” he said as he ran his hands along Alexander’s chest. “And I don’t want him to see me on my knees.”

“Fine,” Alexander huffed, taking a step back from John. They’d done blowjobs in less time, but for John to also shower quickly and get downstairs, it wasn’t going to happen. In a real show of strength, Alexander laid down in John’s bed as John politely closed his door and scampered off to his bathroom to get ready.

They were downstairs in record time.

The house was already flipped in preparation for the barbeque. The kids were all outside setting up the decorations as outside vendors carried large tables and wheeled an oversize grill into the backyard. John could see the bounce house being rolled out near where Junior was sticking the croquet hoops in the ground.

Henry Laurens was in the kitchen, creating his barbeque glaze, and giving them the dirtiest look. Around him were a whole host of caterers preparing hors d’oeuvres and side dishes despite the potluck aspect of the barbeque. Many of the families in the neighborhood had a habit of bringing dishes with limited appeal and small portions.

“So nice of you to join us, Jack,” Henry said bitingly.

“I didn’t sleep well,” John lied. He glanced to Alexander who was standing beside him and tamping down a huge grin. “But I’m here now and Alexander and I can do whatever you need us to do.”

John had learned a long time ago that sucking up was an appropriate method to getting on his father’s good side. It was one reason Junior was his favorite. The kid was a born kiss-ass.

Alexander hooked his forefinger in John’s pinky, letting the warm contact soothe him as he stood before his father. John felt a rush of warmth run up his arm.

Henry glanced around the kitchen.

“I’ll be right back,” he said to one of the caterers as he handed them his apron. Then, to John and Alexander, “Let’s talk in the living room.”

John knew this wasn’t going to be good. They followed him into the other room where he stood, pained, in front of their family portrait. John pursed his lips and fought the urge to roll his eyes at his father’s ridiculous nature.

“I hope you are aware,” Henry began, “that I am being incredibly gracious in allowing your friend to stay after the disrespect I was shown yesterday. So when I ask that you refrain from any public displays of affection, I _especially_ mean today. If I so much as see anything like I did just now in the kitchen, I will have you inside and scrubbing the garage faster than they could say ‘El hijo es la vergüenza de su familia.’ ¿Comprendes?”

John stared at his father, matching his steely gaze.

“Sí, yo comprendo padre,” he replied vacantly.

“Muy bueno,” his father said with a small smile tugging at his lips. As he passed, Henry clapped a hand on John’s shoulder. “I’m glad we understand each other, Jack.”

And then he was gone.

From beside him, John could feel Alexander longing to physically comfort him. John was proud of his boyfriend for showing restraint. They both loved to subvert authority, but when that authority was his father, John refrained. Time and time again, his father proved to hold all the cards. He constantly made it known that he could do anything to his kids without any possible retaliation. John’s biggest rebellion yet was coming out and his father was fighting back against it the best he could.

It had taken _weeks_ for John to convince his father to let Alexander visit. He made promises he had no intention of keeping. But once he broke a few of those promises, he lost his footing in the fight against Henry Laurens. The only thing he had now was to cover his face and hope the emotional bruises didn’t linger too long.

Alexander leaned over to him and whispered in his ear, “His face looks like melting cheese, right?”

John burst out laughing. It was the _last_ thing he expected Alexander to say. Alexander smiled brightly.

“Today’s going to be fine,” Alexander assured him. “We’ll sneak away during the fireworks and I’ll give you a blowjob in the bathroom.”

“How romantic,” John cooed jokingly. He knew Alexander really wanted to kiss him under the illuminated night sky, but he’d have to settle for his dick in his boyfriend’s mouth in a tiny powder room.

Alexander winked at him as he exited toward the backyard. John followed after a moment. If he couldn’t adore his boyfriend up close, he’d settle for admiring his ass as he walked away.

“Are you coming with me?” Alexander asked. John smiled.

“Always, baby girl,” John answered.

Set-up for the barbeque always took longer than John ever imagined. His father went all-out to impress the neighbors. He needed to _prove_ he was the wealthiest man in the community as if having the largest house on the largest parcel of land in a ridiculously expensive gated neighborhood wasn’t enough.

Alexander ended up helping Junior and Jemmy with setting up the party games and showing him how to play them. A hired nanny was watching Mary Eleanor for the day to relieve Martha as she helped the caterers get the tables set up. John was responsible for everything else as his father turned to him and said, “I’m going to take a nap.”

_Typical_.

John hated it when he did that. Every single year, every single party. He had certainly gotten used to it, but it ensured that John would not enjoy any aspect of the barbeque.

He glanced over to Junior, and Jemmy who were teaching Alexander the rules to cornhole. His heart ached to be over there with them, playing instead of working. Alexander caught him gazing at him and waved, his smile a thousand watts from across the yard. John waved back and Alexander responded by holding his hands in a heart shape. John bit his lip and blushed. The day was going to be okay.

3pm came quickly and his father was still upstairs napping. John was busy ensuring everything was together and just as he was working with the facepainters, the first families started trickling in. The families at Raven’s Run had a habit of showing up on time and not a moment too soon. So it came to no surprise when four families from the far end of the neighborhood were shuffling through the yard toward the festivities. Each family brought a dish that was hilariously small (hence why they hired caterers) and John had to hear about how that dish won the award for blah blah blah… He didn’t care. His father was interested in keeping up appearances and competing with the other families. John was interested in raising their taxes and giving it to Planned Parenthood.

The families kept John busy, asking him a thousand questions as they got settled in the yard. Finally, around 4pm, Henry Laurens emerged from the house looking refreshed. Deon Jackson, a stockbroker from a few doors down and Henry’s favorite golfing buddy, immediately approached him. John rolled his eyes. This is exactly what Henry wanted.

“Are you ready for the blowjob in the bathroom? Because I am.”

John jumped. He wasn’t expecting Alexander to be standing right behind him. The additional people had caused John to lose track of his boyfriend. While they couldn’t touch, simply being in Alexander’s aura was enough to comfort John.

“Not yet, baby girl,” John answered with a chuckle. “Where have you been?”

“Bounce house. Jemmy dragged me in there,” Alexander explained. John looked across the yard and sure enough, his youngest brother was bouncing away with Matthew and Derrick. “I am not the spry young man I used to be.”

“Mm, I’d say last night refutes that statement,” he corrected him.

“You might be right, my dear Laurens.”

Being unable to touch as they flirted definitely made John want to touch Alexander even more.

“How are you faring so far?” Alexander asked kindly. He placed a comforting hand on John’s bicep. John nearly melted at the simple touch.

“Better now that you’re here with me. But I’m stressed out. I can’t handle being around these—“

“ _Oh my god, Jack Laurens!_ ”

The voice was piercing and shrill and a familiar panic went off in John’s head. Julie Kowalski, a blonde busty girl from down the street, squealed with delight as she draped her arms around John, her large breasts pressing into his chest. Alexander took a step back, his eyes wide.

“Hi, Julie!” he replied awkwardly as he hugged her back.

Her parents, Drs. Andrew and Jillian Kowalski, were right behind her. Jillian was carrying a small casserole, too small to considerably share, and wearing a huge grin.

“Oh look, Greg,” she cooed. “The two lovebirds are reunited!”

John wanted to scream. For some godforsaken reason, their families had decided at a young age that Julie and John would get married since they were the same age and liked each other. And it wasn’t that he didn’t like Julie. She was nice enough. But as they got older, her feelings developed further toward him and he just wanted to touch another boy’s penis, probably put it in his mouth.

The furrow in Alexander’s brow made John want to curl up and die. He never mentioned all the girls his father tried to set him up with. It was a conversation he never wanted to have. He didn’t want to tell Alexander about all the dates he wound up going on without knowing. His father had always held out hope he was just a late bloomer. He was, but in a different way.

Julie slid her hands down his arms and held his wrists between her fingers.

“You _have_ to tell me about college!” she said brightly. “I _so_ wish you would’ve come to Oxford with me. You would _love_ it!” John chuckled nervously.

“Well, I did spend four years in boarding school in England, so I think I did my penance in living abroad,” he said. Julie hugged him again, but this time it felt a little _too_ friendly. The way her face tucked into his neck and how closer her body was to his…

Jillian turned to Alexander and held out her dish.

“What?” he asked bluntly. John sensed him calculating what she was doing.

She gestured again with the casserole.

“Take it,” Jillian said with a frustrated smile. Alexander reluctantly took the dish from her and awkwardly held it. He glanced over to John who was still dealing with Julie. Jillian shooed Alexander with her hand as she said condescendingly, “Now bring it over to the table.”

Alexander bristled at her tone. He did _not_ take to being talked down to.

Jillian huffed. She looked to John.

“Can you tell him to bring the dish to the table in Spanish?”

John stopped breathing.

“ _Excuse me?_ ” Alexander said, completely offended – and rightfully so. “I speak English just fine, you—“ John pushed away from Julie and stepped toward Alexander, taking the casserole out of his hands before he threw it at the woman.

“ _He_ is not a caterer, Dr. Kowalski,” John interrupted. “This is my roommate, Alexander Hamilton. Alexander, these are the Kowalskis from down the street. I grew up with Julie.”

Jillian pursed her lips in a tight smile.

“It’s nice to meet you, Alexander,” she said.

“I wish I could say the same,” Alexander retorted. “For the record, I don’t even look like any of the caterers here. They all look like you people—“

“Jillian! Andrew!” Gail Ferdinand, a mother of two from the other side of the neighborhood, said as she approached the group. “So nice of you to see you! And Julie! You look so great. I’m glad Oxford has been treating you well. My son Damian really loved it there…”

It was the perfect moment for Alexander and John to get away from the situation. Alexander was understandably seething as they walked toward the potluck table. John set the casserole next to the other five and quickly directed Alexander to a secluded spot on the side of the house. Alexander paced in anger, fighting the urge to just _yell_.

“Are you kidding me?” he asked scathingly. “Are you _fucking_ kidding me? How _dare_ she talk to me like that! That racist...” He stared at John who could only stand there in simmering frustration. “Why aren’t you angry?”

“Oh, I’m furious,” John assured him. “But I’ve also lived around these people and know the horrible shit they say all the time. Trust me when I say that is possibly the _tamest_ thing I’ve heard come out of Dr. Kowalski’s mouth. You’d hate to hear how she talks about her landscapers.”

“Why haven’t you said anything to her?”

“Southern manners?” John suggested halfheartedly. “You can’t tell off your elders, no matter how horrifically wrong or racist they are. If it got back to my father that I gave Dr. Kowalski a piece of my mind, the next place you’d see me is in my casket.”

Alexander huffed. He certainly didn’t like that answer. John didn’t care for it either. The bigotry that existed in his community was disgusting and vile and he had grown numb to it as a means of survival. The microaggressions were painful, stinging reminders that he wasn’t like most of his friends and neighbors. He may be wealthy, but he’d still always be a gay Latino kid. Unlike his wealth, his identity wasn't conditional. Getting out of South Carolina was the best method he had found to relieving himself of the insidious hatred. In college, John could finally _breathe_.

“Also, we both know how I get when I’m angry and how _you_ get when I’m angry,” John said, placing his hands on Alexander’s hips. It was a brave move, considering anyone could come around the house at any second, but he needed to calm Alexander down. If either of them went off the way they wanted, Henry Laurens would have John’s skin. “I want to be angry with you. I really, really do. But I also want to survive this barbeque and the rest of this summer so I can be with you at school. I hate this place more than you could ever imagine.”

John clasped their hands together and pressed his forehead against Alexander’s.

“We don’t have to talk to anyone else the rest of the party, except for maybe my siblings, okay?” John vowed in a whisper. “I also promise to read and critique the essay you’re undoubtedly writing right now in your head about race, class, and the American South that will change hearts and minds.” Alexander finally cracked a smile, as small as it were.

“You know me so well,” Alexander said. His voice was tinged with sadness and John knew it well. Alexander loved writing, but wished he could write more about new ideas and less dismantling current social issues. But John would be lying if he said the latter produced some of his best work. Anger suited Alexander well. Better than it did John, that is.

“So let’s get back out there and get some food,” John said warmly. “As much as I hate the bastard, my father’s barbeque chicken is second to none and you need to try it.”

John watched Alexander’s eyes flicker down to his lips. He hesitated. Alexander was following a rule for once and John was impressed. He smirked, then gave Alexander a quick peck on the lips.

“C’mon,” he said as he broke away from Alexander. “Let’s get back to the party.”

The party was still happening without them and seemed to not even notice they were gone, much to John’s relief. The last thing he needed was his father noticing his son and his boyfriend running off to a secluded spot even if it was just to talk.

Once they had their plates full of food, they sat down at an empty table. John did enjoy talking to some of the other people from the neighborhood, but he didn’t want to subject Alexander to any other possible comments.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat so much food,” Alexander commented around a mouthful of coleslaw. John’s plate was equally as heaping as his own.

“Really? I eat about this much at Korean barbeque,” John replied. “You’ve only been there the one time I had that stomach bug and needed you to pick me up.”

“That’s true—“

“Jack?”

Both boys looked up and found Julie standing next to their table.

“Is anyone sitting here?” she asked politely.

John looked to Alexander who paused before replying, “Nope. Go ahead.”

Julie smiled in relief and sat down next to John. She didn’t have any food or anything in her hands.

“Um, Alexander, right?” Julie asked. Alexander perked up. He apparently didn’t expect her to remember his name after the most uncomfortable introduction of their lives. She nervously picked at her cuticles as she spoke. “I just wanted to apologize for my mother. She doesn’t understand how offensive she can be. Not everyone in the South is as awful as she is. I’m working on her. It’s hard to do from an ocean away, you know?”

Her eyes caught Alexander’s and they were deeply sympathetic. Julie had always been a kind young woman. Had John been straight, he probably would’ve dated her. Maybe have been engaged by now.

Alexander didn’t say anything. He was still understandably annoyed by the comments directed toward him and John didn’t blame him.

“So, Alexander,” she continued. “Have you enjoyed the rest of your visit? Did John take you to the faire?”

“He did.” Julie smiled.

“How much deep fried stuff did he eat this time?”

John watched Alexander soften. Julie was trying. She wasn’t able to take away her mother’s words, but she could at least show what true Southern hospitality could be. Their conversation was light, with Julie mostly asking Alexander questions about his stay thus far. She was an exceptional listener and was able to pick up on the subtlest of changes in Alexander’s face just as quickly as John was. It was a good thing she was planning to become a psychologist.

Just as it seemed Julie mas making progress with Alexander, he excused himself for the bathroom. John wanted to follow, but it definitely would’ve looked strange. Men didn’t typically take buddies with them to pee and from the giant glasses of lemonade Alexander had been drinking, it was clear he was using the facilities for their intended purpose. Which left John alone with Julie.

“He’s very… interesting,” Julie said. “And he’s your roommate?”

John nodded.

“He hasn’t enjoyed it very much down here.”

“I don’t blame him.”

A silence followed.

Julie shifted in her seat, turning her body to face him more directly.

“So did you meet anyone at school?” she asked him pryingly. “Have you got a girlfriend?” She didn’t have a Facebook, so she didn’t see that he was actually in a relationship with Alexander. In fact, John wasn’t friends with anyone from South Carolina for the very reason he got into too many fights over politics. It was like yelling at a brick wall.

Should he tell her? Julie was chill and would probably be okay with him if he told her…

“I, uh, don’t have a girlfriend,” John replied sheepishly.

Wrong answer, because then Julie was running her fingers along his forearm in a very flirtatious manner.

He didn’t know what to do. He should have lied and said Eliza was his girlfriend. They were close enough that it could have worked. Or maybe he should have told the truth. Either way, a woman was flirting with him and John suddenly was paralyzed. He had deflected for _years_. Why was he clamming up _now?_

“That’s good,” she replied with a low laugh. “There was a guy at school who was interested in me but I told him about this really cute guy back home that I was saving myself for…”

John gulped. Saving herself?

“What do you think, John? Want to go inside?” she whispered hotly. “I’m sure Alexander wouldn’t mind if you left him alone for an hour.”

He couldn’t help but let out a laugh. Oh, Alexander would _definitely_ mind.

“What?” Julie asked, surprised by his response. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he answered.

“What do you say, though?”

John paused.

“I’d better stay out here. I think my father would have a conniption if I disappeared for an hour.” Julie only smiled, running her fingers down John’s arm to tangle with his.

“Just let me know if you change your mind?” she murmured in his ear. “I’ve got condoms in my purse.” She dropped a wet kiss on his cheek and quickly left the table as Alexander approached. His brow was furrowed and his eyes were red. John stood up to intercept him.

“Are you alright?” John asked, placing a comforting hand on Alexander’s shoulder.

“I’m fine,” Alexander replied distantly, his eyes not meeting John’s. He stared at the vacant game of cornhole on the side of the yard. “Do you want to play? Junior and Jemmy showed me how earlier and I have to say that I’m a natural.”

“Absolutely,” John smiled. “Let me grab Daniel and Grace. They love this game.”

The barbeque took a turn for the better once they got a good game of cornhole going. Daniel and Grace Williams were two of the kindest and down-to-earth people in the neighborhood. John was grateful they were in attendance. Alexander needed more examples of good and kind Southern people and the Williams fit the bill. Daniel and Alexander ended up having a couple inside jokes from their end of the boards.

The sun was hanging low in the sky. Despite a couple hiccups, the day had been great. They had made it through without any incidences. On top of that, John had managed to avoid his father’s looming gaze the entire time. He had purchased a top-of-the-line grill just for the occasion and was very busy bragging to everyone about it to pay any attention to his children.

John had seen Martha floating around the barbeque, hanging out with Emily, her best friend from next door. Jemmy and Junior were with Matthew and Derrick, chasing each other with water guns some of the other neighborhood boys brought over. Mary Eleanor was chilling with the day nanny who couldn’t seem to keep up with her little legs.

They switched from cornhole to croquet, which turned out to be Alexander’s least favorite activity. He couldn’t get the hang of where he was supposed to aim the ball or what direction through the hoop he was headed, but John couldn’t care less. He hadn’t seen Alexander this carefree since… well, ever. He was finally relaxed and not stressing about school or Student Senate or awful people. They were just them, John and Alexander, two men in love. It was serenely beautiful.

By the time they finished playing, the sky was dark and the radio was on. Every year, the local country station launched fireworks set to a medley of hyper-American songs, most of which were Bruce Springsteen. It was the one time of the year that John didn’t mind country music. It made him feel connected to his country in a way he couldn’t understand.

All the families brought out their blankets and spread them over the lawn. Parents sat down and watched their kids dart between the patches of grass as they chased one another with glow sticks and sparklers. One of the neighborhood dads brought bottle rockets and was setting them off in the space previously occupied by the bounce house.

John grabbed a blanket from the pile and set it up far behind the rest of the group. He and Alexander took a seat. He originally intended to keep his distance, but he was aching for Alexander in a way he hadn’t since before they started dating. Keeping his hands off his boyfriend all day was exhausting and he was ready to retire for the evening. They sat close with their knees touching. That small contact between their skin was enough to electrify John. He wanted to grab at Alexander, push him down against the blanket and lay on top of him. He wanted to kiss him and grind his thigh teasingly against Alexander’s cock. He wanted to be a normal young couple in love, yelled at for their indecency and not just simply their existence.

It had been a long weekend - long _summer_ - and John wanted to be dirty with his boyfriend.

Alexander turned and looked at him, his dark brown eyes wide and teasing.

“You thinking about something, John?” he asked. That’s when John realized he was staring.

“Just laying on top of you,” John breathed. “Right here, right now.” Alexander chuckled lowly.

“Mm, if only I could tell you all the thoughts I’ve had about you all day,” he answered. “The way you held that croquet mallet—oh, and the way the whipped cream from those pies stuck to your bottom lip…”

“So _that’s_ why you couldn’t stop staring at my mouth.”

“Among other reasons.”

John smiled dazedly. His body was lighting up under Alexander’s words, much like it did when they were on the phone. He felt filthy, his cock twitching with interest as so many of his childhood neighbors surrounded them. But if there was one thing John knew it was that he was helpless against Alexander’s words.

He grabbed the extra blanket and pulled it over their laps. It was getting a little chilly and no one would blame them for putting the thin sheet over themselves. Alexander eyed John carefully as he glanced around hesitantly. Bravely, John took Alexander’s hand and placed the hot palm over his hardening cock.

“Oh, _John_ ,” Alexander breathed. He smirked, which was all the encouragement Alexander needed to press harder.

No one was paying attention to them. It was dark. Alexander could be quiet. John could get a handjob during the fireworks, making this officially the greatest Fourth of July ever.

_America the beautiful is **right**_ …

…Until Julie slid into his lap.

“Hey there, sailor…”

And John _panicked_.

“What the—“ Julie mumbled.

Her butt was right on top of Alexander’s hand.

“What the fuck, John?” Julie squawked loudly, drawing the attention of everyone around them. She scrambled out of his lap unceremoniously and stood up. “Why is his hand in your lap?!”

John struggled to keep himself covered with the sheet, but he knew it was fruitless.

“Oh my gosh, are you _gay?!_ ” she all but yelled.

The words got stuck in his throat. He wanted to say no, that it wasn’t what she thought it was.

But it was _exactly_ what she thought it was.

“Oh my gosh! You’re gay! And he—“ Her eyes were wide and panicked as she realized what she had just witnessed. 

“ _He’s my boyfriend!_ ” John interrupted, shouting back at her. A moment passed, then Julie gagged as if she were going to throw up.

The flood of shame he should have felt was gone. Instead, all he felt was anger. He had kept everything secret the whole day. He had been _so good_. He didn’t want to feel beholden to his father’s rules. It was 2016 and he wanted to be _accepted_.

“I’m fucking gay!” he continued. “I fuck guys! So stop hitting on me! Stop touching me! Just stop it!” He was standing – he didn’t remember standing up. “ _I’m gay as fuck and I don’t want you, Julie!_ ”

Everyone was staring at him. The yard was silent, save for the speakers playing a quiet “Proud to be an American”.

Fingers curled around his bicep, tight enough to bruise.

“Come with me _right now_ ,” Henry Laurens snarled in his ear. He pointed a finger at Alexander. “You too.”

Henry dragged John away from the party and into the house, Alexander following close behind. Once they were inside, Henry slammed the patio door shut. He stood opposite John in the living room, away from prying eyes.

“¿Están bromeando?” he started, his voice quivering in anger. _“¿Están bromeando?_ I had _one rule_ for you, Jack. One! And you still decide to _disobey_ and _embarrass me_ in front of the entire neighborhood. How could I have raised such an ungrateful son. I have done everything for you. I let you stay in my house. I let you go to college. I let you come home after this... _horrible_ revelation. I have done  _so much_ for you, Jack Laurens, and this is how you repay me. By shaming me and your brothers and sisters in front of our entire community. You are the laziest, rudest, most selfish child I have ever met and I am _ashamed_ to call you my son.” He stepped right up to John and in his space. His whole body was shaking with rage. His fists were clenched at his sides. He wanted to hit John.

_Not with a witness here, Henry._

John wasn’t afraid. In that moment, his father could have beaten him to a bloody pulp and he wouldn’t have reacted. He said what needed to be said. He stood up for himself after being forced back into the closet and sexually harassed by someone he thought was a friend. The heat in his gut was searing and loud. Anything Henry had to dish John was willing to take.

“Eres un maricón asqueroso,” Henry sneered before spitting on John.

John stood stock-still. He didn’t dare move. He didn’t want to give his father the satisfaction.

“You stay in here and I’ll deal with you later,” he added coldly. After one more long heated stare, Henry left, going back outside where their guests were.

The silence of the house was heavy and thick, the only sounds were their breathing.

It should have angered him. His father _literally_ spit on him. He should have been enraged. He should have wanted to break everything. He should have wanted to burn the whole house down.

All John felt was calm.

He was done. He was simply done.

He didn’t have any anger left in him, no more shame.

If anything, he was smug. He got under his father’s skin. His sexuality _bothered_ his father and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. There was no hiding it anymore. His son was gay and everyone knew it. However Henry Laurens wanted to clean up that mess was his own problem. After years of abuse, he deserved it. Revenge was  _absolutely_ a dish best served cold.

And boy did John have a better idea for revenge.

“John?” Alexander said cautiously, gently touching John’s arm.

John spun around and grabbed Alexander roughly, his hands squeezing at his ass and grinding their hips together. Alexander responded in kind, kissing John messily, their teeth clacking together. He could feel the warmth of Alexander’s body through his shirt and it made him weak in the knees. Being close to Alexander all day but unable to touch was the worst possible situation. John molded his body against his boyfriend’s, but Alexander drew back, making John chase his lips.

“You’re thinking again,” Alexander mumbled against John’s mouth.

“I am.” John kissed him between words.

“You have an idea.”

“I do.”

“Please tell me?”

John growled in excitement.

“Why don’t I show you instead?” John said smugly.

“ _Please_.”

He took Alexander’s hand and led him through the house and up the stairs. When they got past the upstairs landing, Alexander paused briefly in front of John’s door before John kept walking.

It was when John’s fingers touched his father’s door handle that Alexander understood. He opened the door and slipped inside.

Henry Laurens’ room was enormous, easily double the size of John’s. A large bay window facing the front of the house let a flood of streetlight into the room, spilling on the tall-backed chairs and side table. Off to the left was a door to a huge master bathroom and a big walk-in closet. But the focal point of the room was the oversized king-size bed with fluffy white comforter. It was a beautiful room, something straight out of a model home.

John brought Alexander inside, their bare feet treading lightly on the soft white carpet. He couldn’t stop smirking. He pressed himself against Alexander, rubbing his half-hard cock against him through their shorts.

“You in for some petty revenge?” John asked wickedly.

“ _Always_.”

Alexander kissed him passionately, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him closer. John shivered. The thrill of what they were doing was overwhelming. Nothing in this world would compare to having his boyfriend kissing him and holding him tight. But doing it while standing in his father’s room as an act of revenge made it that much sweeter.

Perhaps it was that John had to wait all day, but he already felt drunk on Alexander’s tongue. He felt warmth, a golden liquid, filling his body. His body was loose and comfortable. He wanted to be worshipped. He wanted to be adored. He wanted to be _fucked_ as the gay man he was.

His father didn’t want him to be anything but the perfect heterosexual son ready to marry and bed a woman quickly after college. But John was as gay as they came. He loved men and their strength and their masculinity and their beauty. He also loved to be loved by men, to be admired by men.

The way Alexander looked at him made him feel so _alive_. These days his life’s energy was generated by Alexander’s love for him. Alexander’s warm dark eyes gazed at him with such deep affection.

John broke the kiss, his breath almost ragged as he ground his hips against Alexander’s, feeling his answering erection.

“You know what I want?” John exhaled.

“What?” Alexander murmured.

“I want you,” he replied, punctuating his speech with kisses, “To bend me over. And fuck me. On my father’s bed.”

Alexander _shivered_.

“ _Yes_.”

Alexander grabbed at him again, hauling him impossibly closer. He walked John backwards until his legs hit the edge of the bed where he was forced to lay back. He got himself to the center of the bed as Alexander climbed on top of him. He felt like he was swimming in a sea of blankets, lost among the waves with his lover. The bed was _huge_ and deliciously comfortable.

_All the better to be fucked on_.

John snickered to himself. Alexander smiled as well.

“What’s so funny?” he mumbled.

“I love this,” John sighed.

“We are the pettiest,” Alexander agreed.

“Yes we are…” John kissed Alexander again. He ran his hands down Alexander’s sides and around to his shorts. He popped the button and unzipped his shorts before unceremoniously shoving the fabric down with his briefs. Alexander tugged off his t-shirt and tossed it to the floor. He kicked his shorts off his legs. Soon, John’s boyfriend was gloriously naked above him with the backdrop of an elegant chandelier behind him.

His fingers skated down Alexander’s soft tummy to loosely grip his cock. He smiled tenderly at his boyfriend.

“You like that, baby girl?” John asked. Alexander nodded, biting his lip.

“I’d like it better if you were naked, too,” he suggested seductively.

“Why don’t you go get our supplies from my room and I’ll take care of this issue,” John offered. He pushed the hem of his t-shirt up his stomach to reveal his abs to Alexander, the muscles still defined despite a weekend of gluttony.

Alexander growled playfully before racing out the bedroom door buck-naked. John giggled. Nothing could get Alexander moving faster than the promise of sex.

He quickly divested himself of his clothing and dumped them hastily off the side of the bed. John tugged at his cock briefly, the sensation singing under his skin. He stared at the expensive tin ceiling and reveled in the turn of events of the day. Earlier, John was hoping he’d get at least an hour to make-out with Alexander in his room, maybe give him a blowjob. But here they were, about to have sex in his father’s bed. He felt so _dirty_. And it was _wonderful_.

John rolled over onto his stomach and reached his arms above his head. His cheek rested against the blanket as he peered back toward the door. As Alexander reentered the room, John opened his legs wider and lifted his hips off the bed, presenting his ass on full display for his boyfriend, the epitome of sexual submission.

They had talked extensively in their time apart about everything under the sun. From politics to friends to family to dreams to zodiac signs to animals… everything. Sexual fantasies were always a favorite of theirs. John loved to watch how Alexander’s eyes grew dark over the grainy Facetime when they’d talk about them.

This happened to be one of Alexander’s: John, presented so perfectly, just to be _taken_.

Alexander stopped dead in his tracks with his jaw dropped open. John could practically hear his heart pounding in his chest. He stayed near the door, almost as if he was afraid this was a dream.

“I need you, Alexander,” he begged, lifting his hips just a little higher. He could feel the cool air of the room against his hole and it made him self-conscious the longer Alexander stood near the door. John whined. “ _Please_ , Alexander. Fuck me.”

Slowly, Alexander approached him. He held the lube and condom shakily in his hands before placing them on the comforter beside John’s foot. John watched him carefully. He had expected lengthy prose on how beautiful he was, how good he looked, but Alexander was silent as he climbed into bed.

Then, with little warning, Alexander palmed John’s asscheeks in his hands and licked at his dry hole, moaning loudly.

John cried out. He wasn’t expecting Alexander to _do that_. He licked at John messily, his tongue probing at the soft skin. His hands fisted in the comforter as he gasped for air. Alexander had _never_ rimmed him before and _oh_ did he understand the appeal now. God, if he felt dirty before, he was positively _filthy_ now.

“Alexander…!”

“Fuck, you taste so good, John,” Alexander said, his voice gravelly and dark. He kept licking at John, pointing his tongue and driving it in and out of John’s hole, opening him up ever so slowly. It felt _amazing_ and John was starting to feel heady and dizzy.

“Alexander, please fuck me,” John pleaded. “Fuck me. Put your cock in me, baby girl. _Please_.”

Alexander gave him one more long lick before draping himself against John’s back, his cock resting on his wet hole.

“I’mma fuck you so good, baby,” Alexander purred in his ear. “Do you want my fingers?” John shook his head, his curls bouncing against his cheeks.

“Just your cock,” John breathed. Alexander bit at his ear, pulling the lobe between his teeth. He sat back and John could hear him fiddling with the condom wrapper, then there was a _snick_ and in moments, he felt the latex head of Alexander’s cock pressed against his hole.

Alexander held his hips in his hands and pulled him back onto his dick, lifting John up on all fours. He opened up on his cock, the fullness in his ass making his heart sing. Inch by inch, John sank back onto Alexander’s length. Alexander’s hips rested against his ass ever so briefly before he started fucking John in earnest.

“You like that, baby?” Alexander asked. “You like being fucked like this? Like I own you? Like this is all you’re good for?”

John grinned from ear to ear. He loved being fucked by Alexander and having him inside. He loved his filthy mouth. Until the night before, he didn’t know how much he loved submitting to him. Here he was, on his hands and knees, gloriously _mounted_ by his boyfriend, his own cock swinging heavily between his legs.

Then the fireworks started.

The literal fireworks outside.

He dropped his chest back down to the bed and stretched his arms out, grasping at one of the decorative pillows. Alexander slid a hand down John’s back and tangled in his hair, pushing his cheek into the sheets. John gasped and whined. Alexander’s cock was brushing right up against his prostate.

“Fuck, Alexander,” he breathed.

“You’re made for this, John,” Alexander babbled. “You could never be what he wants you to be. You’re so much better than that. You were made for me. Made to love me, to fuck me, to be with me forever.”

There wasn’t a world where Alexander’s words wouldn’t affect him so deeply.

“Alexander, _please_.”

Alexander fucked him harder and faster. His balls were tightening and his head was swimming.

“Alexander I’m gonna—“

“Don’t come.”

The command took John by surprise. Never had Alexander demanded that of him.

And he _loved_ it.

John whined loudly, the peal of sound echoing in the spacious room. He wasn’t allowed to come as Alexander just used his body to get off. He was dizzy in the cloud of arousal and lack of release.

Alexander’s hips stuttered and his fingers tightened in John’s hair, then his hips slammed _hard_ against John’s ass as he came inside him.

John wasn’t sure if the popping he heard in his ears was the fireworks outside or just him.

He was about to slump down onto the blanket when Alexander was pulling out and grabbing John’s wrist.

“Come here,” Alexander said, rushed. He had quickly stripped himself of his condom before dragging John over to one of the sitting chairs facing the bay window. He pushed John down into the chair.

“Alexander, what—“

Alexander dropped to his knees and took John’s cock into his mouth, slurping wetly. John closed his eyes and moaned.

“Watch the fireworks, John,” Alexander murmured against the side of his dick. “Celebrate our country’s freedom.” He took the head of his cock back in his mouth.

John opened his eyes and gazed out the bay window. He could see the firework display from downtown. The red bursts and white sparkles in the sky shone brightly in the dark bedroom, dancing against Alexander’s tanned skin. John imagined the song the explosives must have been choreographed to, maybe “The Star Spangled Banner”. His one hand clutched at the armrest while the other sunk into Alexander’s hair, guiding him to suck faster and harder as the music swelled in John’s brain.

_O’er the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave._

“ _Alexander!_ ” John gasped. And he was coming hot down his throat. Alexander naturally swallowed every drop. He pulled off John’s cock with a soft _pop_ and smiled.

John didn’t have any words. He was so overwhelmed by everything. He felt so powerful in that moment: his naked lover at his feet, sitting in his father’s armchair. He gently stroked Alexander’s hair for a moment before guiding Alexander to sit in his lap. Together, they watched the rest of the fireworks and celebrated the birth of their nation.

While the circumstances were less than perfect, John wouldn’t have wanted to finish the day any other way.

He couldn't find any anger left in him. Not with the love of his life in his lap and the beauty of freedom before him. He'd have freedom from his father soon enough. He'd be rid of the horrific treatment and abuse. Summer would be over in a month and a half and John would be back at school with his friends and Alexander. It was a small price to pay for the colossal joy that lay ahead.

Once the fireworks were finished, they quickly cleaned up. Years of living in the Laurens household gave John the ability to make any room appear untouched. In minutes, they were dressed and in the media room, watching _Yankee Doodle Dandy_ on TCM.

The noise outside had dissipated, the families all heading home. Soon, little feet were scampering up the stairs and John’s three youngest siblings burst into the media room. They babbled about the fireworks, giving John and Alexander a play-by-play of what they missed.

“And the whole thing ended with that one song that goes buh-buuuuh-buh-buh—“ Junior said.

“It was so good, John, Alexander,” Jemmy said, bouncing on his toes.

“And then—“

The door to the media room swung open slowly and Henry Laurens stood in the doorway.

“I think it’s bedtime, kids,” he said sternly, only the ghost of a smile on his lips. The three kids complied, running off to their respective bedrooms. Henry stepped further into the room toward John and Alexander, who were sitting on opposite ends of the couch. John turned off the TV and sat up.

“Yes, Dad?”

“Did we learn a lesson today?”

John wanted to _laugh_.

“Yes, sir.”

_If you fuck with me, I’ll fuck with you._

“Bueno,” Henry replied shortly. “Now I don’t think I should give you any more of what you want since I made the mistake of allowing your friend to stay in the house with you. Bed. Now.”

“Yes, sir.”

They both rose from the couch and left for their respective bedrooms. Once John was settled in his bed, he saw a text from Alexander.

**From Baby Girl <3**: _Happy Fourth of July, John. <3 <3 <3_

**To Baby Girl <3**: _Happy Fourth, Alexander. <3 <3 <3_

**To Baby Girl <3**: _I love you. And thank you._

**To Baby Girl <3**: _I couldn’t have survived tonight without you._

**From Baby Girl <3**: _Always and forever for you. <3_

And with that, John’s eyelids drooped and he was out like a light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wn67XyvePOE) song kept playing in my head when John was staring down Henry Laurens. 
> 
> Also, cornhole is a really fun game. Croquet, not so much.


	5. departure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander leaves. John is alone. With Henry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! The final chapter of this fic! Now I can work on the sequel! Hooray!
> 
> And this is a super short chapter.
> 
> Enjoy. And thanks for reading!

John was an early riser, but there was no place in this world for 6am flights. For some ungodly reason, Alexander booked his flight home for 6:25am, placing their departure from the Laurens household somewhere close to 4am.

The house was dark and silent when John met Alexander downstairs. Alexander was quietly tapping away on his laptop at the kitchen table. His bags were conveniently packed and tucked next to his feet as if he had been waiting to leave for hours. John supposed he had. From his unkempt hair to the circles under his eyes, John could tell Alexander hadn’t slept.

He approached Alexander from behind, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and tucking his face in his neck. Alexander was actually writing an essay about race, class, and the American South – already 45 pages, single-spaced – and had been up all night writing it.

“You ready to go?” John murmured into Alexander’s skin. Alexander stopped and sighed heavily.

“Yeah,” he replied unsurely. John felt that, too. He knew the all too familiar feeling of wanting to escape the South and all its issues, but he wasn’t ready to say goodbye to his boyfriend for another month and a half.

John took Alexander’s chin in his fingers and turned his head into a long, soft kiss. They wouldn’t be able to do that when John was dropping him off, so he needed to get one last kiss in now.

“God, I love you so much,” Alexander said tenderly.

“I love you too, Alexander,” John hummed in response.

Reluctantly, they parted. Alexander packed up his laptop as John grabbed his tiny piece of luggage. They headed to the garage where John’s car was parked.

The roads to the airport were desolate. With the holiday the night before, most people were taking the day off to recover. That, and 4am was not most people’s favorite time to be awake.

They drove in companionable silence with their fingers threaded together over the center console. John would never be ready to say goodbye to Alexander in any capacity. He wanted to hold onto him forever. Perhaps they could drive past the exit for the airport and keep driving. Meet up with Lafayette on their roadtrip. Take themselves far away from this place. Find their own Eden to be together.

_Soon._

Despite the empty streets, the airport was still percolating with activity. Alexander certainly wasn’t the only one who stupidly booked a 6:25am flight and he definitely wouldn’t be the last. John decided to park the car and walk Alexander as far as he could to the gate. He longed for the days when one could walk their loved ones straight to their gate. But he’d have to settle for just before security.

With Alexander all checked in, they lingered in front of TSA. John stared at the sparse security line of weary passengers. Alexander was going to join them and move through the scanner and disappear into the abyss of the terminal. He was going to be so far away and John was going to be left to deal with his father’s aftermath alone.

Alexander’s thumb tenderly brushed away a tear on John’s cheek.

“Come with me,” Alexander pled, taking both of John’s hands in his. “You have the money. I asked the ticket agent if there were seats still available on my flight. Come stay with me in New York.”

John’s breath hitched. Oh, how tempting that was. His mind flashed to cuddling with Alexander in their seats, befriending the inevitable business man who would sit next to them, watching the clouds float past them through the window. Then they would land and Alexander would take John back to his summer sublet and they could spend the hot nights naked in bed, wrapped up in each other…

But his siblings would miss him. And he would feel responsible if anything were to happen to them while he was gone. It was too late for Martha, but Junior, Jemmy, and Mary Eleanor were still so young and impressionable. They needed to know there were adults in their lives who weren’t tyrants like Henry Laurens.

“I can’t,” John said, his voice cracking. “I have to stay here, baby girl.” Alexander pouted, sticking his lower lip out humorously. John let out a watery chuckle. “I’ll see you soon enough. Thank god for Skype and Facetime.”

“Seriously, _thank god_ ,” Alexander agreed. “I don’t think I could handle going a month without seeing your beautiful face or hearing your ideas. It’s definitely not the same as being in the same space, but I’ll take it over nothing, you know?”

“Oh, I know.”

“Besides, they say distance makes the heart grow fonder, right? And let me tell you, John Laurens, time makes your kisses taste sweeter.” John blushed. He was used to Alexander’s remarks about his cock and wanting sex, but when he was being romantic, John was utterly defenseless.

Alexander leaned forward and kissed John chastely, a tender peck goodbye. He untangled their fingers and started to walk away from John when John grabbed Alexander and yanked him back into a longer kiss. He felt Alexander melt into the touch and it made him feel strong. While he had no power at home with his father, he knew there was one man who would succumb willfully to him: Alexander Hamilton. (And to be fair, John would yield to Alexander for the rest of his life. The amount of resolve John had to say no to Alexander was dwindling.)

“Can you stop making it harder for me to walk away?” Alexander murmured against his lips. “I’m seconds away from dragging you into the bathroom.”

John snickered. As much as he loved that, he feared someone would follow them in there and cause trouble. It would have to wait until they were back at college.

“Fly safe, Alexander,” John smiled. One more kiss and then Alexander was slowly joined the security line. They couldn’t stop watching each other until Alexander’s attention was taken by the TSA officers and the demands of a security check. As soon as he was through the scanner, John couldn’t see him anymore. His beautiful, wonderful, smart, brave boyfriend was swallowed by the chaos of the airport.

It didn’t stop John from standing there for a few minutes longer, hoping he could see Alexander one last time.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he smiled brightly.

“I’m going to talk to you until they pry my phone out of my hands,” Alexander said over the receiver. “So I just saw on my CNN notifications that Donald Trump…”

John didn’t think he could survive if they only had to communicate through letters.

_Thank god for technology._

Alexander stayed on the phone as John walked back to his car and drove home. He stayed idling in his car outside the house, using the Bluetooth in his car to keep talking to Alexander, until – as he predicted – the flight attendants threatened to kick him off the plane.

“Okay, okay – god! I’m hanging up! No, don’t – Okay, John, I love you and I’ll talk to you soon,” Alexander prattled quickly.

“I love you too! Bye!” John got out before the line went dead.

He turned off the car and stared at his steering wheel. It was just past 6:40am and the rest of the house was definitely asleep. The thought of going back inside made John panic. He didn’t want to go back there without Alexander by his side. He was brave, sure, but Alexander made him fearless.

With a deep breath, John went back in the house.

Sure enough, it was just as quiet as he left it. He toed off his shoes and headed for the stairs. A nap was in order before he had to head out for his internship.

“Jack?”

His blood ran cold.

“Yes, Dad?”

“Can I talk to you?”

John steeled himself and entered the rear of the house. Henry was leaning against the kitchen counter, solemnly sipping a cup of coffee. His father wasn’t normally awake this early. Perhaps he didn’t sleep that well because the energy in his room was off…

John mentally filed that away to laugh about with Alexander later.

“Did he make his flight?” Henry asked conversationally. John furrowed his brow.

“Please don’t make small talk with me,” John said bluntly. “I know you don’t care and I’m tired.”

Henry stared at John with a hard gaze. John matched it pound for pound. He was done with his father’s bullshit.

“He is not a good influence on you, Jack,” his father said calmly. “Before you met him, you were a good obedient boy who listened and did as he was told. Now I hardly recognize you.”

“Maybe it’s because he made me realize what a horrible father you are.”

Henry’s eyes went wide.

“Horrible father?” he asked, surprised. “How am I a horrible father? I put a roof over your head, I feed you, I pay for your school. That is a hell of a lot more than other parents do.”

“No, Dad, that is the _bare minimum_ you have to do for children.”

“Paying for your school is a _bare minimum_ —?!“

“I meant the feeding and sheltering us—“

“I mean, I could stop paying for your school and make you figure it out yourself if I’m such a horrible father.”

And there it was. Henry’s best card. The one thing he could hold over John’s head that he couldn’t fight against. And he played it _so well_.

But not this time.

John leaned back against the counter opposite his father and crossed his arms.

“Are you sure you’ll want to explain to the other parents, your golfing buddies, the other guys in your office, why your oldest son dropped out of college?” John asked casually. “Though I’m not sure which would be harder: telling them I dropped out or explaining that it’s because I’m gay. I’d pay to see either of those situations, really.” His pettiness was on a roll from last night and he wasn’t about to give his father an inch.

Henry was silent. John could feel the quiet anger lurking beneath the surface. Henry had never had a child talk back to him and John was testing his own mortality. But he was not going to live under the tyranny anymore without saying something. His father’s fingers tightened around his mug.

“Jack—“

“What?” John bit back. “What are you going to do, hit me? You can only get away with child abuse for so long, Henry.”

“Watch your tongue, Jack Laurens,” Henry answered pointedly.

“Or what?”

Henry paused, giving John a curious look.

“I’ll stop paying for college,” he said. John chuckled.

“We just went over this—“

“I can tell them you didn’t deserve to go to college.” Henry’s tone grew bolder. “Given your insolence at the barbeque, I don’t think anyone would find it hard to believe I stopped paying for your schooling.”

John tried his best to hide the fear in his eyes. He could win this battle. He could.

“What do you want?” John asked calmly.

“What do you mean, what do I want.”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

Henry sighed.

“Well, for you to stop being gay is out of the question.”

“It’s not something I can just stop.”

“You can stop dating that horrible boy.”

“Not happening. Try again.” Nothing and no one was going to take Alexander away from him.

Henry paused, slumping against the countertop. He eyed John carefully.

“You’re going to do pre-law. Like I asked originally,” he said coolly. “It’s my money. I should have a say in what you’re going to do with it.”

Pre-law. John would study to become a lawyer. The prospect of taking on those extra classes was intimidating, but he knew he could do it. Six, maybe seven classes that semester? He wouldn’t see his friends or Alexander often, but he wouldn’t have to drop out of school. And he could completely undermine his father and become a public defender or a lawyer for a non-profit.

“Deal.”

John held out his hand for his father. Henry stared at his hand before switching his mug to his other hand. He took John’s hand in a firm grip and they gave one solid shake.

“Deal,” Henry said. “Good talk, Jack. You’re becoming more of a man every day.”

John nodded before ducking out of the kitchen, grabbing a banana off the counter on the way out. He got into his room and shut the door before exhaling. It was one of the most adult conversations John had ever had with his father. He couldn’t wait for the day he never had to speak to that monster again.

That day would come soon enough. But first, John had to survive the rest of the summer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY BYE.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can follow me on tumblr @alexanderssecretboyfriend.


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